


Palladium

by scotchandwhitelies



Category: Black Panther (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Gladiators, F/M, Love at First Sight, UST and goats sums up this fic pretty well, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22834351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scotchandwhitelies/pseuds/scotchandwhitelies
Summary: A foreign princess falls in love with a gladiator.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & M'Baku, James "Bucky" Barnes/Shuri, Mantis/M'Baku (Marvel), shuri/original male character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Third time's the charm.  
> Hope you'll enjoy reading this little romance which has a good amount of historical innaccuracies. There was supposed to be an other multichaptered sequel but I can't get it out of me.

He had made an habit of not smiling for the crowd. 

  
It first landed him the nickname of Winter Soldier. The German war prisoner turned slave and gladiator. The one to keep his gaze cold and calculated when it ran accross the spectators nestled in the tiers instead of waving and bowing. 

But the public didn't mind his detached attitude. His victories spoke to them even as he refused to. 

  
When he stepped into the Colosseum, cheers and roars erupted urgently, ringing loud inside his ears. Bucky made his way to his twelth battle on sure steps. The sun ignited his skin which was already heated by a fur cape. It had been an immaculate white once but now, the fur was covered with blood stains. 

  
" WHITE WOLF ! WHITE WOLF !!!"

  
Amidst the roars and whistles, some of his fans went as far as imitating the animal's howling. Bucky suppressed a smile as his mind drifted to his master. The White Wolf's character was his idea. A persona crafted to incite fear, curiosity and sympathy all together.

'You fight like a beast, it suits you.' the older man had said. 

  


* * *

  
  
Shuri did her best to sit straight and appear interested. 

  
Gladiators combat had been abolished for years in her african province so the display of male strength and savagery she had seen all afternoon didn't impress her one bit. 

  
But the Princess was sitting in the Emperor's box and as a guest, was obliged to show minimal engagement and appreciation. Shuri thanked the Gods for the small mercy of sitting beneath shade.

  
Another pair of fighters was now walking around the edges of the stadium. Or parading for the crowd, Shuri thought. The biggest of them looked like a bear in armor despite the crowd cheering for The Great Gorilla.

His opponent was pratically naked except for a fur cape. She noticed he didn't seem to have any weapons other than a fishing net and a trident. Given the impending massacre, Shuri silently prayed Bast for the man's poor soul. 

  
"I'm rooting for Great Gorilla M'Baku !! What about you ?"

  
Shuri couldn't help but bristle at N'Jadaka's voyeuristic joy. He was even holding a clay figure supposed to represent his favourite gladiator. The rendition was bad enough for Shuri to think whoever was responsible shouldn't be allowed to sculpt ever again. 

  
"I am rooting for this to be wrapped up so we can all go home", she whispered.

  
As if by second nature, her mother sent her a warning glance so Shuri focused on the center of the Colosseum again. 

  
Breads and Circuses. Brillant. 

  


* * *

  
The audience stood silent everytime one of the gladiators crushed down the dry soil of the stadium. She figured they were both fan favourites. 

  
After minutes, she too lost all sense of space and time, caught in the heightened awareness which came with life and death situations. The combat was nothing but stylized and suspenseful to keep spectators on edge. 

The White Wolf's fighting style drew her in the most. She was entranced by the way he alternateed between charging on his opponent like a feral beast and avoiding sharp hits on almost _graceful_ steps. 

Shuri didn't how much time passed. The battle had her gnashing her teeth and clawing at the indian cotton of her dress. 

  
The White Wolf fell to the ground then, a sharp sword ready to slice his neck.

  
Her stomach sank.

.  
The Great Gorilla relished on his enemy's imminent death as he defied the crowd to decide of the man's fate. He was met with a reverent silence but Shuri thought she caught the sound of a woman's sobbing in there.

  
But his overt confidence was his downfall. A loud, guttural scream echo in the amphiteather as a knife twisted inside The Great Gorilla's leg, giving The White Wolf enough ammunition to push him back. 

  
A wave of relief threatened to overwhelm Shuri when the arbitrator finally claimed the Victor's name.

  
There was a rush of movement in front of her when Emperor Thanos stood from his seat, ready to decide of The Great Gorilla's fate. 

  
Later, when the White Wolf came to stand and bow before the royal family, Shuri was hit by how tall and big the man actually was. It was only fair he looked smaller when confronting a giant. 

Ice cold blue met golden brown longer than necessary.

She thought he shouldn't have been looking this handsome when he was all bruised and filthy from the fight's aftermath, brown locks in disarray and even caked by blood. 

  
Shuri made her decision right at this moment as the warrior still held her gaze inappropriately. 

  
She would attend his next combat and hopefully, she would witness his victory again.   



	2. Chapter 2

> " _Brought to you by Bassinius Agricolae, Roman senator, son of Jacobus, twelve pairs of gladiators. And presented by_ _En Dwi Gast_ _, lanistae, ten pairs of gladiators._
> 
> _The warriors will fight at the Colosseum on the sixth day before the Ides of September through the following day."_

A coughing sound echoed behind her back as Shuri was busy reading the painting on the wall. Her preceptor gave her his best mock disapproving glare. He was framed by the Valens brothers, huge red-haired men that were part of her entourage. 

"Your Highness, I take it our trips to the markets weren't the forms of distraction you had in mind today."

At her side, another slave was carrying a torch to facilitate her reading, casting their shadows on the dark cobbled streets in the process. The sun had already set and they were surely late for dinner but Shuri couldn't bring herself to really care for social conventions. She narrowed her eyes at the older man but her expression was softened by the way her lips curved. The news sparked such excitement within her that she couldn't hide the way her face lit up. 

"You're the one who taught me about the political importance of games, Zuri."

"And it seems your Highness has forgotten my most important lesson: always returning to the Villa _before_ the day is over."

Shuri reluctantly gazed at their carriage before focusing her attention to the wall again. With a sigh, she adjusted her shawl to form a hood and cover her braids. The seemingly chaste gesture earned her a pleased smile from Zuri (who had been trying, and failing to teach her how to be a proper Roman lady for the past four months). She missed her people and Magna Wakanda with every fiber of her heart and it seemed the unusual, irrational part of her brain was only soothed by the idea of attending a certain Gladiator's fight.

After lingering at the depiction of two gladiators fighting underneath the words for a few more seconds, she nodded at the men who stood at her sides and took a quick, confident stride in direction of their _carpentum_ and smiled when noticing their coachman looked even less alert than his horses. 

Stopping mid-travel in a dark, narrow street at night was a reckless decision no matter how big and armed her bodyguards were. Besides, she didn't want her mother to give Zuri another public scolding because of her. Her tutor is older and far wiser than any of their other servants and it always irked Shuri to see him get rebuffed like a child. Especially when he couldn't do anything but obey her whims and desires. 

Shuri took place on one bench, trailed after by the youngest Valens brother while the other bodyguard joined the coachman to keep an eye on the road. 

Opposite her, Zuri gripped his leather satchel like his life depended on it. It did contain precious rolls of papyri he just borrowed from the library, thanks to her help. 

A various string of petty crimes were committed daily in the imperial city but so far, Shuri thought she was pretty bored of living there. There had been stories she discussed with Zuri before, in between the astronomy and mathematics lessons he conceded to teach her, stories of red wool cloaks coming to murder Romans. Without any distinction of age, gender or social status. But Shuri wasn't afraid of the red cloaks. They simply reminded her of Death.

So far, living in the imperial city bored her out of her mind.

* * *

Drunks fighting on unsure steps in the darkness of the streets, lupas howling to lure clients in their cubicles, flying chamber pots crashing down the middle of the road. None of this mayhem made Bucky raise his eyebrows. Instead, he found himself perfectly serene in Rome's most infamous neighborhoods. After all, he was a rascal himself, bound to social stigma no matter the fame and money brought by his career. 

He only focused on keeping an eye on the low traffic, the sound of clogs kicking the road accompanying his thoughts. A few guards acknowledged him with a head nod long before he stopped at their level. After demounting, Bucky tipped the youngest generously so he could tend to his horse.

As he stepped inside The Pavo Cristatus, he was immediately assailed by the smell of smoke coming from the burning lamps and the loud hubbub formed by the clients. The household staff was busy tending to intoxicated men, submerged in ridiculous bets and political debates, too drunk to register one of the empire's best gladiators was paying a visit. He slithered gracefully in between crowded tables, making his way to the main reception counter. The waitress was serving a client when she noticed him. Her eyes sparkled with interest as her lips curved into a friendly smile. 

"Hot wine with some honey ?", she asked. 

"Mantis, you really know the road to my heart", Bucky quipped.

His friend giggled as she took another metal goblet, tilting the jar expertly to serve him, unlike the first times she worked there and kept breaking everything.

Bucky accepted the drink with a grin and started sipping with gusto. 

"Did you notice him tailing after you this time ?"

He snorted before putting his goblet back on the counter. 

"He is as sneaky as a rat. I don't know how he does it honestly. The man is a giant !"

Mantis filled him in on the latest gossip. Broken engagements, suspicious disappearances, political rivalries between the most powerful clans. It was always a joy to remember the shy and closeted girl he met a year ago became such a bubbly and radiant woman. She was an amazing listener as well which is why so many men were glued to her awkward charm. Bucky considered his friend one of the luckiest men in the empire for having her. 

He kept his eyes all around the room to check for the other girl's safety. He owed his life to the kindness of Brunnhilde, the tenant, it was the least he could do for her. 

"She's upstairs", Mantis told him in between exchanging pleasantries with other clients. 

So Bucky relaxed, leaned on the counter and let his gaze roam around, smiling at a few fans frantically waving at him and grateful that, for once, they kept a respectful distance. The crying sound of a cithara elevated in the room then. One glance behind his shoulders and Bucky's eyes flickered with interest. 

A magnificent red head woman was going down the stairs, accompanying a dark skinned Citharista , her voice so silvery it felt like draping around Bucky's shoulders. The look she gave him on her way to the center of the room was made of molten gold. He only replied with a smirk and shook his head, reigning in the desire that pooled into his gut at the flimsy eye contact. 

Another woman slid next to him, bumping his shoulder with purpose. He didn't need to look to recognize her but he still did. 

"Alba Lupus", Hilde said playfully, looking up at him from her shorter height, " So what do you think of my newest girl ?

"

He gave her a fond smile."I dare say the Gods have given her a voice powerful enough to bewitch...”

"Her name is Natalia and she's Germanic as well", she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, nudging him with her elbow. That gave him pause and he stared ahead. Ironically, there was a large erotic fresco opposite him. 

"Hilde, don't tell me you've hired this girl just to...this is insane."

The older woman shrugged."You keep comin’ in here without having a good time. What’s wrong with my girls ? They're healthy, beautiful and know how to hold a conversation both in and _outside_ the bedroom." 

Bucky stifled a laugh."Look, I am having fun."

She arched a perfect eyebrow. “Are you ? Haven't seen you lots since the death of Stephanos. Are you sure you're okay ?"

His expression hardened subconsciously at the thought. His friend noticed and gave him a comforting pat on the back. It had been two years since his best friend died but the sudden pang in his chest was still as fresh. His craving for vengeance tingled through his fingertips. The beast in him was calling for blood and its metallic smell. 

Bucky took a sharp breath to shake the emotions away."I am. Will you come to the Last Meal next week?"

Hilde didn't begrudge him for trading interests. She usually came to the Ludus to partake in the festivities before his combats. This petite, olive skinned woman was the closest he could call family now.

"I’ll be there White Wolf. And we'll celebrate your thirteenth victory !" 

Bucky put his hand around her shoulder and squeezed it in gratitude. 

" _Thank you_."

He spent the two following hours drinking to his content and chatting with other clients. Even sat at a table and placed bets himself with a drunk -who didn't recognize him- for his next fight.

A large, dark skinned hand thumped on the table then, startling both men and making their goblets tremble.

* * *

"It looks...interesting", Shuri said carefully. 

"Interesting ? This is hideous. Where did you get this nest ?"

Ramonda gasped at N'Jadaka's insolence. Shuri could see the ornatrix behind her mother doing her best to stifle a smile. She caught Shuri's eyes and immediately lowered her head back at her handiwork, searching through the jewelry box for emerald green earrings. On a rational level, she understood why her mother went at great lengths to fit into the Roman aristocracy, putting on powder, dyeing her hair and adopting the imperial fashion sense (or lack thereof in Shuri's mind). But she still resented it. Her mother was Queen of Magna Wakanda but the title barely meant anything for the inhabitants. Still, Emperor Thanos treated the family with great respect, gracefully accepting their father's refusal at living in the Imperial Palace. 

Shuri was thankful for her father's boldness because she wouldn't survive the petty political dramas happening there. She couldn't even keep track of all the sumptuary laws emitted by the Emperor either. Apparently, his Royal Majesty wanted to be the only man allowed to wear purple in the vicinity. And purple was Shuri's favorite color. She had most of her wardrobe dyed to suit Roman laws. Shook her head once again at the ridiculous thought. 

N'Jadaka was saved from Ramonda's wrath thanks to a servant crying about the Cursus Publicus's arrival. He exploited the moment to flee the room. The Queen complained about the blonde wig being pinned too tight to her scalp and gently dismissed her servant. After all, she was a hairdresser herself before becoming nobility. 

Shuri left the seat next to her mother to glance at the courtyard from the open window and inhaled the smell of jasmine and lavender coming from the botanical gardens. 

She saw N'Jadaka and Zuri exchanging a few words with the Horseman in charge of delivering the messages early in the mornings. A few servants gathered around in curiosity. It seemed her cousin pried Zuri into reading the missive aloud because he was now pouncing around in enthusiasm. 

It didn't take her long to put two and two together. Her father's return was impending.

Dread traveled through her bones.

This could only mean one thing. Her freedom was about to be crushed. 

* * *

After hours of row, the silence at the _Pavo Cristatus_ was strange and deafening.

Bucky didn’t want to be the first to relent so he stood, puffed out his chest and stared back at his rival with defiance, waiting for his next move. At his side, his drunken partner was gaping like a fish out of water, craning back his neck to take a better look at the Great Gorilla who just appeared.

After inhaling a sharp breath, Bucky pressed his mouth into a thin line, features hard as steel. It didn’t take long for M’Baku’s lower lip to tremble and for his shoulders to shake. His booming laugh echoed in the room as his body tilted forward, making the wooden bench screech against ground from his massive weight and Bucky couldn’t suppress his own snort anymore.

As usual, his friend expressed his hilarity by repeatedly slapping his fist against the table. The clients of the inn looked at them both, dumbfounded by the extraordinary sight of two warriors who nearly brought one another to death months ago, now expressing such joy in each other’s presence.

His friendship with M’Baku was based on great rivalry and mutual respect. In a way, they could be called blood brothers. They’ve both discussed about the impending possibility of being each other’s opponent in combats while training at the Gladiatorial School multiple times. The prospect wasn’t appealing to say the least but they’ve both sworn to accept the consequences and promised each other not to hold back any punches, leaving the Gods to decide of their fate and providing the public with their best performance. Death by his friend’s hand would have been an honor for Bucky. Thankfully, their one and only fight came to a satisfying conclusion.

M’Baku sat opposite him and gestured at a waitress to bring more wine at the table.

“Well, that’s a way to make an entrance”, Bucky said as he stopped his goblet from spilling its own content on the table.

A playful punch in the bicep left a slight buzzing pain in his muscle.

“I wasn’t gonna let you have your fun without me ! You could have waited this time.”

“It’s much funnier to have you tailing me.”

The drunk sitting next to Bucky still had a slack mouth and his eyes kept making a back and forth travel between the two gladiators. Realization finally dawned on his face and it looked painful. He hastily gathered the coins that were scattered on the table and without a word, jumped out of his seat and away from them.

M’Baku squinted and scrunched his nose like he just smelled something foul. “Thank Bast I don’t have the same effect on women.”

“Wait...I think this drunkard left with some of my money”, Bucky said with more confusion than venom.

His friend frowned and waved a dismissive hand. “ You have enough money to settle in Egypt and live like a King with his own harem, what are you even talking about ?”

_“Which one of you wants a harem now ?”_

He whipped his head at the sound of Mantis’s voice and sat straighter as she approached them with a clay jug in hands and a tray full of honey cake. M’Baku’s ears immediately turned crimson at the sight of her beautiful face and she beamed in delight. Bucky’s brows raised high. The effect she had on him never failed to amuse.

“I don’t but he does”, M’Baku said, looking all the world like a child who just misbehaved.

“He’s lying”, Bucky countered as he drank down the remnants of his goblet.

Mantis gave them her best, dead eyed, half-lidded stare.

“It’s time for you guys to behave like grown ups”, she quipped before stealing M’Baku’s cup and swallowing the wine down in one shot. She did not even dilute it with water. Nostrils flared and lower lip raised, M’Baku looked both alarmed and proud at her boldness.

While the couple bickered, he reached for a slice of cake and let the flavours of nut and pepper spread on his tongue. He hummed appreciatively. It must have sounded orgasmic because the expressions on his friend's faces were akin to greek tragedy masks.

“That sounded inappropriate”, M’Baku said. Mantis was the one who didn’t take any offense and even sported a lopsided grin.

“This is a brothel disguised as an inn.”

“But the rooms are upstairs.”

Bucky shrugged before taking another bite, making a point to lick honey off his fingers just to annoy him. Mantis took place next to M’Baku. The conversation went from Bucky’s abysmal dinner etiquette to the imperial palace and public affairs before coming back to him again.

“The White Wolf needs a woman”, Mantis concluded. Her lover turned his head to her with a softened expression and a smile that made his warm brown eyes crinkle.

Bucky stayed silent, eyes looking down to the plate.

A woman, marriage, _family_.

He gave up on those things ages ago when he decided to avenge Steve’s death by carrying on being a gladiator. Nevertheless, he tried to represent himself at old age, surrounded by his own brood. The idea was so ridiculous he snorted and shook the thoughts out of his head. Given his career, it was a miracle he was still alive at 26. And part of him thought he didn’t even deserve this kind of happiness. He had way too much blood on his hands after all.

“Do I ?”, he replied with an amused smile.

Mantis leaned forward, perched on her elbows. “I’ve known you long enough to know your taste in women.”

M’Baku mirrored her with tongue in cheek, clearly appreciating the turn of the conversation while Bucky suppressed the urge to flee.

“The White Wolf should have someone to warm his bed for winter”, his friend insisted, wiggling his brows.

He blinked and repressed a smile, shaking his head at their antics. “Did Hilde payed you both to do that ?”

“She doesn’t need to. We both want you to find a partner, you deserve companionship”, Mantis explained. “I know you like women with grace. You had a fling with that red haired aristocrat ? What’s her name again ?”

Both men winced at the reminder. Months ago, Bucky used to collect flings with the boldest, married ladies of the Roman aristocracy. It earned him being attacked by a mob of badly trained assassins who left him bleeding on the pavement without checking for his breath. When one of the aforementioned ladies decided to get rid of an embarrassing lover to ensure her husband a clean political pathway.

“Well I don’t do that anymore...”, Bucky sighed.

“Your body count in the bedroom must be worse than the ones in the Colosseum”, M’Baku said as he served himself another helping of wine, shaking his head in disbelief while Mantis burst out laughing.

* * *

With a panting breath, Shuri paced her bedroom back and forth like a fury, nostrils flared and fists clenched tight.

Her father was coming to Rome in ten days, leaving her enough time to find a way out of the engagement. Because she had to. His letter came with a cameo of her betrothed’s face. A face she already knew from watching paintings of the Imperial family. Petros. One of Emperor Thanos’s nephews. A fifteen year old boy who barely entered adulthood by roman standards. While her most common nightmares came with marrying an old hag for the glory of Magna Wakanda, the prospect of spending the rest of her life with this stranger was just as daunting.

Shuri came to a stop and gritted her teeth, staring at the brightly colored mosaic beneath her feet till the floral designs went blurry. T’Chaka promised her to wait for her eighteenth birth day before marrying her off but it seemed her father changed his mind, probably because of the Council’s meddling.

Anger and resentment were oozing out of her pores and she sat at her iron stool to calm her nerves. The cameo was left untouched in her wooden cabinet. She would have loved to throw it out of the window. Although she was a princess and knew her duty, a little more time would have softening the pressure of becoming a broodmare to a boy she already despised.

Shuri felt like a flightless bird, young and rich enough to explore the world but bound to the servility of her gender. Her privileges seemed useless in that moment.

A single knock released her out of her melancholic thoughts. She quickly flicked the tears in the corner of her eyes, schooling her features into a mask of serenity before angling her body towards the bronze plated door.

The Queen mother stepped into the room, leaving her bodyguards to stand in the doorway. Shuri immediately stood and lowered her face in reverence. Her mother approached her with careful, hesitant steps. Like Shuri was a wild animal she needed to tame. It might have been true. She was suddenly pulled forward, enveloped into a warm embrace and Shuri blinked off another wave of tears, determined to keep her head high. When her mother pulled back, she noticed Ramonda’s almond eyes were shining with unshed tears too.

She cupped her daughter’s cheeks, softly tracing the cut of Shuri’s cheekbones now the plumpness of childhood had disappeared. Pressed their foreheads together.

“I don’t want to Mother...”, Shuri whispered, her voice shaking with emotion,“I didn’t see enough of the world yet. There is so much knowledge I didn’t explore.”

Ramonda pulled a persistent braid away from her face and stared at her reverently.

“I know sweetheart. We can only hope that his youth will lean into your favor. Who knows, you two might become friends and explore the world together...”

She wanted to flee the room. Disappear.

Her mother let her hand come down Shuri’s cheek. Then, she slowly took her hand and caressed her third finger which was still naked but would soon be adorned by a ring. Shuri wanted to coil away as a feeling of disgust overwhelmed her.

“I wish your grandmother was alive to see the day.”

She nodded mindlessly at her mother’s words and stayed silent to avoid any drama.

“Once you both learn about each other, i’m sure love and affection will grow between you two.”

Shuri only replied with a noncommittal nod. Her goal in life was to produce future Roman citizens now. Musings of a loving and equal relationship had to be buried.

Ramonda placed a kiss on her forehead.

Just for now, Shuri would play nice. Be a good girl. But Bast knows how much the Princess didn’t want to submit without a fight.

She had to find a way to break the engagement


	3. Chapter 3

Strolling in the gardens was usually one of her means of escape. Her family had imported lots of Wakandan flora to their villa in Rome and she enjoyed the feeling of reconnecting with home every time she went there. As she let her hands caress fluttering leaves, she felt his presence behind her back.

  
  


The urge to roll her eyes and stomp her foot to be left alone was prominent but she knew there were prying eyes all around the vicinity, ready to comment and report every movement of her face to her mother. So she waited in silence for her betrothed to leave the arcades and walk forward. Because Petros always took the first step. 

  
  


They've known each other for a rough five days, just enough to notice patterns in their relationship and one of them was Petros unable to leave her side longer than a few minutes when he visited. The daily visits were his suggestion not hers, quite a bold one considering the engagement was not made official to the public yet. But the visits of Emperor Thanos's nephew to a villa belonging to foreign royalty sparked interest and rumors all around the vicinity and it did wonders for her mother's social life. Shuri couldn't bother less about the amount of wooden tablets sitting on her table, invitations to birthday parties, banquets and weddings gathering the finest of roman citizens. 

Petros gave her a shy smile as he reached the nearby fountain. Far enough to give her privacy but still close enough so he was right in her peripheral vision. 

"Are you coming to senator Bassinus's party tonight ?", he asked, not bothering to hide the hope in his voice. 

Shuri stopped stroking the plant and glanced in his direction before averting her gaze.

"I will."

He huffed in delighted disbelief. 

"Incredible ! I did come at one of his banquets a while ago. Though I won't be able to tonight. I'm leaving for a short trip very soon."

She hummed as she finally looked at him. He had an expectant look in his face, probably because she was supposed to ask him where he intended to go. 

So she did and Petros beamed. For a moment, she almost expected a tail to flag behind him. 

This kid was a real menace. Not in the physical sense, though he was less scrawny and leaner than he looked in paintings but way too eager about the engagement and without the slightest trace of rebellion in his bone. Too serious in a toga which was as way too large fit. Too polite, even though she tried to spark fights many times with her snide comments. He always took every one of her jabs with grace and patience so her hopes of causing a public scene were showered very quickly. Or maybe he was still too immature to understand sarcasm and had the emotional maturity of a sprout, Shuri didn’t know. She stayed laconic most of the time they spent together though he did manage to make her laugh in the markets once, when he bought a pet tarantula just to impress her and he swore to take good care of it. He had even given it a name.

"I'll be back right for your father's return !", he says animatedly, joining her side next to the groves of heart shaped herbs. He takes the plant she was stroking between his fingers and looks at her from behind his lashes. 

The excessive fluttering was probably intended to be charming but Petros just looked like he got something stuck in his eyes. 

Years of royal upbringing restrained Shuri from coiling away. Or slapping some common sense back in his brain.

"Have you ever been there before ?"

"Where ?"

"To senator Bassinius's villa !"

"No. No I haven't."

"It's magnificent ! I heard he bought new statues for his gardens and they're so realistic they can make you jump at the sight. Especially at night !"

Shuri walked towards the arcades on quick steps. He trailed after her rapidly to get ahead and face her as he spoke while walking.

"And one of them is a giant golden jaguar statue he bought from Magna Wakanda ! Just like that !"

He proceeded to make an unflattering mime of the sculpture and this time, Shuri succumbed to the temptation and rolled her eyes. They both roamed around the peristyle garden, passing ahead the slaves quarters to get back to the atrium. On their left, two artists were in deep concentration around the pool, following the tracing of floral patterns to stick all the tesserae into the right place. 

And she thought, as she passed next to them, that Petros was definitely the wrong tesserae to be put in the broader fresco of her life.

* * *

“Ready ?”

He sighed as he refastened the leather bands around his wrists.

They’ve spent the whole afternoon being paraded along with wild beasts in the inner city and tonight, they were meant to put on a show again.

“In a way, yes.”

Agricolae, the convenor behind the games organized this september, invited all the gladiators meant to fight the following day to one last meal. One last night of festivities before a random draw would seal their fate.

Bucky looked over his shoulder at M’Baku who was also readjusting his armor, wooden sword and shield in hand, wearing similar shin leather pads strengthened with bronze.

Tonight, there will be no corrupting the guards to get out of their barracks and escape a life of bondage to drown their sorrows at the inn. They’ve been willingly let out of their shackles since morning to entertain roman citizens and promote the upcoming games.

They walked in pairs in direction to senator Agricolae’s villa, their steps slamming the cobbled streets, the clanking sounds of their armors ranging in the dark.

* * *

The sudden appearance of a roaring lion nearly caused Shuri’s heart to jump out of her mouth. But she held it in well, her slightly bulged eyes the only sign of her surprise as she considered her environment. Petros was not lying when he said the sculptures looked realistic. It looked majestic and for sure, Shuri noticed the gardens were the exact replica of the Wakandan royal gardens, down to the groves of heart-shaped herbs, amaryllyses and bright pink sunflowers which glowed in the dark. She moved closer to her mother, ready to whisper her disbelief but her only warning was a pointed, disapproving stare.

  
  


Thereupon, they arrived with their entourage in the main hall and some slaves tended to everyone’s cloaks while others guided them through the reception room. Contrary to her belief, the Egyptian fashion of her attire did not clash with the rest of the guests at all so she returned her mother the same pointed look. It was not the first time Shuri attended a public banquet in Rome. Those dinners were usually private things and rather boring. But tonight, there were more than three couches stringed together in the dining room. The place was nearly as crowded as the forum on a market day.

  
  


Her gaze roamed around the vines and garlands decorating the marble columns and walls. A few guests were reclined in couches of ivory and bronze around round tables, cups of wine so full it was a miracle the vessels didn’t already topple over. Most of them were talking animatedly while standing, flower crowns adorning their heads. Shuri took a whiff of freshly baked bread and roasted wild boar as senator Bassinius came to give her family a proper greeting. They mingled with the other guests a bit for idle chatter before taking seat on a couch. The guests on Shuri's right were very curious about Wakanda so she entertained them with patience , wit and good humor. Though Bassinius didn't enjoy her stealing the light of the party and soon directed the conversation to his late father. 

Wine flew for two more hours as they enjoyed the first course of exotic delicacies while the orchestra and singers entertained the guests with a jaunty rhyme of flute and organ.

Shuri was playing dice, standing around a round table when the host clapped his hands to command attention. He gestured at all to stand on a horizontal line opposite the main buffet which panned over en entire wall, flailing his hands as he promised the best entertainment of the night. 

So Shuri stood and joined her mother's sides, her shoulders backwards and head held high the way her rank deserved while the fanfare of trumpets rang loud in the room. It didn't disturb her stance one bit but only served to raise her interest further. 

She heard it then. The loud sound of a procession approaching in the distance. Metal and wood clanking against each other as warriors passed through the main entrance. 

She let out a quiet gasp amidst the roaring applause and exclamations, her eyes cataloging each attire and armor as men paraded around the room, gauging the guests, rolling their hard earned muscles under tanned skin in a way that managed to be threatening and enticing. That's when she recognized him. His stride confident and nonchalant as he paraded a few feets away from her.

He wasn't enveloped by a stained fur cloak this time, wearing a gold embroidered cloak over his light armor instead. She hold in a breath when they locked eyes. His slow steps making a dimly heard sound in the loud whispering of the dining room. The parade ended at another wave of trumpets and the gladiators now stood in ranks. He came to a stop right opposite her. In a way she found both too far and dangerously close. He was so tall in person that she had to crane her neck back to study his face. 

_The White Wolf._

Ice cold eyes. A freshly trimmed beard. Chocolate brown hair grazing his broad shoulders. Battle scarred chest showing underneath his cloak.

Her pulse elevated at his presence and she silently cursed herself for her weakness. For as young as she was, Shuri knew it wasn't fear that tickled her spine as she faced one of the Empire's most lethal gladiators.

* * *

It's not in any slave's rights to look down at royalty but she was so tiny he couldn't do anything but tower over her. She couldn't be anything but a Princess given the golden diadem adorning her forehead and the rich Egyptian linen of her dress. Her dark skin seemed highlighted with the same bronze that candelabras were made of. Sweet and delicate, she wouldn't survive a day in the arena. Still, there was something commanding in her gaze that pulled Bucky in. Something strong underneath that vulnerable body.

  
  


This princess wasn't cut to fight but reeked a fierceness that led Bucky to form a mental picture of her leading an army to victory. His own eyes should have been focusing right ahead. This was the appropriate thing to do. But golden brown rimmed with kohl put a spell on him so he stared and stared and stared.

  
  


And it finally dawned on him. This wasn't the first time it happened. 

* * *

  
  


There was a slight frown on his face as they stared into each other's eyes.

  
  


Shuri didn't know for how long but soon, too soon, their host demanded attention again and she averted her gaze first, resisting the unknown force that attracted her to him. This stranger felt way too familiar for her comfort. 

  
  


Before treating the warriors to what could possibly be their last meal, the senator insisted on the importance of a demonstration. Shuri suppressed a sarcastic comment. Bassinius wanted to look magnanimous for inviting high ranked slaves into his domain but wasn't going to offer them a feast until they paraded some more for his guests.

  
  


He invited them to retreat closer to the wall so as not to give the gladiators a cramped space. At his command, slaves brought more wooden weapons to ensure a bloodless fight. Then, the Great Gorilla and another man which body was covered in tattoos were called forth to act out a fight. The oil lamps were losing their strength and providing a dim light whilst swords collided in a rapid, staccato rythm. It was a show of style and technique meant to rile up the public's expectations for the games that would take place tomorrow. 

  
  


The fight stopped when the Great Gorilla's wooden sword dug into his opponent's neck. Several pairs of gladiators trained under their watchful gaze until it was the turn of the White Wolf to go. This time, the senator insisted on presenting a wooden sword to the gladiator himself. His eyes slowly lowered onto the weapon and for a moment, Shuri thanked the Gods for the artifice because the look he gave back to Bassinius made hair prickle on her naked arms. 

  
  


With a flicker of the hand, he divested himself of his cloak and kept it straightened on air before slave rushed to take care of it. Shuri's eyes flickered with interest, the sounds of speculations drowned by the excessive beating of her heart. It looked nothing like the battle she had seen in the arena, where his technique was a show of strength and vulnerability. There was no flow in his fighting this time. He kept charging on the other warrior like a feral beast and quickly, the clashing of the swords filled the room again. A virulent blow was given by the White Wolf to the other man’s sides, his teeth bared and gaze infuriated.

  
  


It brought the other man down.

  
  


Some of the audience roared but Shuri kept silent.

  
  


Bassinius looked a tad disappointed that the fight didn’t last longer. She released a sigh of relief, thanking Bast for the bloodless fight. Thereupon, with a dramatic flourish of the hands, the host ordered for the party to resume. As soon as he turned his back, the White Wolf shoulder’s slumped slightly and he stretched his hand out for his opponent to take, helping him to stand on his feet again.

  
  


Shuri would have stared more if it weren’t for her mother’s hand grabbing her elbow and leading her back to the banquet.

  
  


“I’ve just seen Agusta of Damascus. Let’s go talk to her. I heard her husband is an architect on the rise.”

  
  


She let her mother lead her to a group of three women. She’s heard of the Damascus clan before; they owned a lot of villas across the whole empire. The eldest son even founded a city.

  
  


The women were talking animatedly when the Wakandan women approached them, the talking soon dissolving into polite smiles. The youngest gave a neck bow to Ramonda.

  
  


Shuri raised her eyebrows when her mother greeted her with a warm embrace.

  
  


“We’re well past all those social conventions Agusta”, Ramonda said as she released the younger woman.

  
  


“I guess we really are after spending an entire afternoon at Caracalla together. This must be your daughter, Princess Shuri ?”

  
  


Shuri figured her mother met her friend at the Baths and bowed respectfully. Though she didn’t expect Agusta to be this young. The girl couldn’t be anything other than sixteen.

  
  


And she was almost outraged to find, there was a baby bump underneath the bright pink of the girl’s dress.

When Shuri and her mother found their way back to the dining area, a few gladiators were reclined where other Roman guests used to sit. Bassinius was preening under the attention it gave him from his guests, his mellowed cheeks flushed a bright red. For everyone, there was something thrilling about being surrounded by the Empire’s most lethal men in such a domestic setting.

  
  


Some warriors were stuffing their faces with food to the point of sickness while others tried to engage in the ongoing conversation. Ramonda didn’t let her surprise transpire and gestured at her daughter to sit close to her.

  
  


Shuri immediately recognized the two men sitting next to their host and her breath hitched at the realization.

* * *

“Queen Ramonda and Princess Shuri, the jewels of Wakanda”, Bassinius said as he raised his cup of wine to the women’s entrance.

  
  


Bucky’s eyes lift from his plate. He bowed his neck to both women, his gaze lingering on the daughter. He wasn’t one to feel self aware in presence of higher ranked citizens but there was something about these two women that made him sit straighter. Something ancient, commanding and feline in their beauty.

  
  


The princess’s beauty was nothing like the one he’s accustomed to from Roman women. A colorful net of beads was adorning her neck and golden bands around her arms and wrists. Unlike her mother, she wasn’t wearing a traditional stola. Her sheath white dress was covered with linen, the clothe marrying every curve of hers.

  
  


He averted her gaze when her cat like eyes met his, focusing his attention on his food again, praying to the Gods that the Princess didn’t notice his ogling.

  
  


“There’s a lot of rumours about the White Wolf and I needed truth for each one of them”, Bassinius quipped as if he were an old friend and not the man responsible for Bucky going back to the arena tomorrow.

  
  


At Bucky’s sides, M’Baku snorted before taking another helping of roasted boar.

  
  


He licked the faint taste of wine from his lips.

  
  


“What else do you want to know, Sir ?”, Bucky asked.

  
  


Bassinius smiled and put on an expression of mock concentration. Then, he drew closer to the gladiator and with a conspiratorial tone, he asked him: “What will you do of your freedom and wealth once you get offered the _rudi_ _s_ ?”

  
  


The mention of the ceremonial sword brought back everyone’s attention, including the guests that were mingling a few feets away. The rudis was the ultimate symbol of freedom and proof of a well lived and hard earned career.

  
  


“I assume you’ll take a nice vacation to Baia”, Bassinius trailed, “There’s plenty of _fun_ to get up to there.”

  
  


Bucky’s eyebrows raised and he heard a few shocked gasps behind him. He quickly glanced at the two wakandan women opposite him. The mother’s face was unreadable but the daughter’s eyes were definitely shining with mirth.

Baia was more than infamous and lots of tales recounted the kind of illicit activities taking place in the city. To hear a roman senator speak publicly about it was staggering. The wine was definitely flowing.

  
  


So as to avoid a political incident, Bucky gave a genuine, lopsided smile.

  
  


“You know, after years chasing around other men or being chased after in Rome, I long for something more peaceful and serene.”

  
  


Right as expected, the undertones led to a few snickers and M’Baku rolled his eyes. Bucky chuckled at his friend’s reaction.

  
  


“Retiring sounds like a dream honestly”, he trailed. “I could be a dead man by tomorrow.”

  
  


“For Bast’s sake ! The rumours are all wrong and the White Wolf is not fun at all. His biggest dream is to buy a farmstead and die old while tending to his goats”, M’Baku explained before swallowing down his Egyptian ale.

  
  


Bassinius looked offended on Bucky’s behalf.

  
  


“I’ve never heard such nonsense ?!”

  
  


Bucky shrugged. “It is true.”

  
  


“So after all this time fighting for your survival in the arena, your dream is to become a _peasant_?”

  
  


“This is a very noble dream.”

  
  


The gladiator whipped his head at the sound of the soft tilt of that accented voice.

  
  


The Princess of Wakanda was looking back and forth between Bassinius and him, lips stretched into a smile, her eyes twinkling with determination and intelligence.

  
  


“ _Farmers are a vital link to our existence_. Without agriculture, we would all perish. Isn’t it the reason why Magna Wakanda is called the bread basket of the Roman Empire in the first place ? It would be very wise for the White Wolf to invest his time in such a nurturing activity as well, especially after a years spent entertaining our bloodlust.”

  
  


The Queen Mother choked on air before her daughter even finished talking. Bassinius looked dumbfounded. He set his mouth into a thin line.

  
  


“And I dare say, _your Highness_ , that one of the Empire’s best warriors deserve to be considered a wealthy Roman. Or at least, be part of the elite’s bodyguards. His skills should not go to waste picking up animal feces in the countryside !”

  
  


She didn’t flinch under his dismissive tone and instead, said with a gritted teeth:

  
  


“I dare say we should be very cautious to pay our respects to _Ceres_ at a banquet, for her spirit helped providing all of this.”

  
  


And right after that, she straightened her hand for a servant to refill her silver cup.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Shuri took a sip of her drink under their watchful gaze, deliberately avoiding her mother’s.

  
  


The White Wolf was looking at her like she had just grown a pair of horns and she wanted nothing more than to bury herself under the mosaics beneath her feet. It was mortifying. Her mother had told her countless times to be sensible about her smart mouth and yet again, Shuri didn’t listen.

  
  


She thanked Bast for the audience and her own bodyguards standing nearby because Bassinius looked ready to kick her out of his villa.

  
  


The Great Gorilla jokingly volunteered to be their host’s next bodyguard and the tension dissolved. Bassinius snapped his fingers to order the slaves the serving of the fourth course.

  
  


Her hands fidgeted for a few minutes on her lap before she took her decision. The jaunty rhyme of flute was turning into an annoying sound, the singer’s voices getting all croaky and the conversations boring. She stood up and bowed in reverence before taking her leave. Ramonda didn’t retain her, probably still taken aback by her daughter’s boldness.

  
  


She nodded at one of the Valens brothers and immediately, the man trailed after her as she roamed the villa. Shuri and her bodyguard crossed a series of open spaces till they arrived at a portico. It led to to the courtyard which magnificence was enhanced by two fountain pools, framed by exotic trees and plants. A few braziers provided the only light.

  
  


As usual, her bodyguard stood away to give her some privacy. Her hands dipped into the water and she flinched when something grazed her fingertips. She furrowed her brows and only released her breath when noticing the bright orange fishes swimming away.

  
  


A crunching sound on her left made the man behind her draw closer, his senses on alert. Shuri’s lips parted open when she saw Agusta, followed by her own bodyguard. The girl’s hair and eyes were the color of porphyry, she finally noticed.

  
  


“I thought you could use this”, she said as she extended her hand.

  
  


The shawl Agusta was holding was a gaudy orange but the night wind was chilly and she could definitely use some layers.

  
  


“Thank you”, Shuri said as she draped the clothe around her shoulders.

  
  


Agusta smiled and her hand found her protruding belly. Shuri thought it was a miracle the girl could still maintain her balance. She was so tiny and so young. Shuri shivered under the sense of dread tickling her spine. She’s lost too many friends to childbirths.

  
  


“You’re welcome. I figured you weren’t used to the Roman climate yet.”

  
  


“What makes you think so ?”, Shuri smiled.

  
  


Agusta gestured at Shuri’s dress and she giggled.

  
  


“Believe me, you look like a goddess. I am quite jealous you know. I don’t think I could fit into a dress like that anytime soon.”

  
  


The Roman placed her hands on the edges of the basin, contemplating the moon’s reflection on the shimmering water.

  
  


“I heard about your engagement to the emperor’s nephew”, she whispered.

  
  


Shuri clutched the shawl tighter around her neck.

  
  


“People talk a lot”, she sighed.

  
  


“They really do”, Agusta chuckled softly. “You know, I’ve been friends with Petros since I was a little girl.”

  
  


Shuri thought she was still a little girl but bit her lips. Agusta didn’t look miserable over her destiny. Actually, the expecting mother was glowing.

  
  


“Is there something I should know about him ?”, she quipped.

  
  


Agusta shook her head, cheeks flushed. “No. It’s just...I hope you’ll take good care of him Shuri. He deserves it. His childhood has been really harsh.”

  
  


Shuri hummed, realizing Petros never talked about his childhood during his visits.

  
  


“I’ll try my best”, she said.

  
  


The smile she saw on Agusta’s face was so bright it was nearly dazzling.

  
  


The guests were gobbling down the fifth course when they returned from their stroll in the courtyard to the banquet. An hour later, Shuri accompanied her new acquintance to the reception area.

  
  


“Everyone will look pregnant by the end of the night”, Agusta whispered to Shuri before embracing her. She was fond of combats and never missed any of the warrior’s last meal banquets but she had enough food and entertainment for the night. Though Shuri had seen her tickle her food in caution more than anything.

  
  


Agusta’s eyes slightly bulged when she disengaged from Shuri. The Princess frowned and looked over her shoulder. She let out a quiet gasp as the White Wolf walked towards them.

  
  


Reverently, he bent his massive body in half. He gauged the Valens standing at Shuri’s side and nodded respectfully for Agusta before speaking.

  
  


“Your Highness”, he said, unaware of the way his rich, deep voice made skin prickled on Shuri’s arms beneath the gaudy orange clothe. “Forgive me for daring to interrupt you. All gladiators will be dismissed soon and I didn’t wanna miss the chance to thank you.”

  
  


Her whole sense were on alert but Shuri let nothing transpire.

  
  


“Thank me ?”, she asked with nonchalance as she maintained eye contact.

  
  


“Yes”, he said softly.

  
  


Her chest heaved beneath the linen of her dress. “For what ?”

  
  


“ _Taking_ _the_ _aspirations_ _of a slave_ _in_ _to_ _consideration_.”

  
  


There was a trace of amusement in his voice that made Shuri thank Bast for her dark skin. Because her cheeks were flaming.

  
  


“Well, I do hope you live long enough to tend to your goats, _White Wolf._ ”

  
  


She saw something flash in those winter blue eyes of his but it passed too soon for her to put a name on it. The gladiator gave her a small smile.

  
  


“Trust me. _I will_.”

  
  


Shuri ignored the trembling in her fingertips, crossed her hands defensively.

  
  


“Fine then. Stay alive.”

  
  


Agusta let out a strangled gasp at her side. There was probably a hundred more sensitive things better to say than her last sentence to someone whose fate would be soon sealed by a random draw. But Shuri’s stupid brain decide to make a comeback. And before the Princess could take back her words, the smile on the gladiator’s face stretched to a wolfish grin.

  
  


“Are you giving me a _command,_ your Highness ?”

  
  


Shuri felt the streak of defiance in his tone. Brash and bold, igniting the fire sparkling between them since she saw him defeat the Great Gorilla in the arena and they locked eyes as he payed his respects to Emperor Thanos.

  
  


“I do not rule over Romans”, Shuri replied with the same irony that tainted his words.

  
  


“I’m German”, the gladiator countered.

  
  


“Fine. Consider it a _friend’s advice._ ”

  
  


With a last, lopsided smile, the White Wolf bowed his neck and took his leave.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Thirteenth battle. Thirteenth victory. 

His chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his erratic breathing. 

Scorching sun rays set the bruises and deep scratches covering his body ablaze. His gaze roamed over the cheering crowd who had commanded him to end his opponent's life. He stared as men rushed to the corpse of his opponent, pawing him to check if he were faking his death. The poor man was merely a fish caught into a net, trident digging into his stomach. 

His fans erupted in louder roars and wolf whistles when his attention focused on them again, his hardened gaze running across the tiers, stairs and entrance arches, searching anywhere for _her_. She was nowhere to be seen in the Emperor's box or the stands at first level dedicated to the highest ranked citizens, and he could feel the sting of disappointment at the realization.

_Stay alive,_ she had commanded so naturally, he expected her to be there. But she was so young and bright and her life a thousand times more precious than that of a wretched slave. He must have imagined the draw he felt towards her was mutual. Combats were mere entertainment and the Princess didn’t look enthusiastic about them at the Last Meal. If anything, she must have been intrigued by his peculiar concept of retirement.

With a wince, he stooped to collect some sand, rubbing it between his hands to dry the blood and sweet coating his skin. When he got up and glanced at them, they were dragging the corpse towards the Gate of Death, its feet carving a groove on the ground. The White Wolf breathed a sigh. One more death. One more sacrifice on the path of revenge.

He straightened his stance and looked at the reeling spectators one last time before kneading his wounded side and limping to his own exit: the Gate of Life.

* * *

" _Fides_ ?”

  
  


“Faithfulness.”

  
  


“To whom ?”

  
  


“Family and Rome”, Shuri replied with obvious reluctance.

  
  


She had been seething since her father commanded her to stay home for the afternoon instead of attending the gladiatorial combats.

  
  


Shuri had a lot to say to T’Chaka when he arrived earlier than expected from Ostia but their argument was cut short when a courtier summoned him to meet the Emperor. She figured their villa was located on the palatine hill for the sole reason of being close to the Imperial Palace.

  
  


Her preceptor was walking around the room as he reminisced their early lessons on roman customs.

  
  


“ _Pietas ?”_

  
  


“Respect for the Gods.”

  
  


“And ?”

  
  


“Roman laws”, Shuri huffed.

  
  


“ _Virtus_ ?”

  
  


Chiseled features immediately came to her mind. She couldn’t help the warm feeling pooling in her chest as her mind paints the White Wolf.

  
  


“ _Manliness. Strength. Courage_ ”, she recited and for the first time, she endorsed the words coming out of her mouth.

  
  


Even Zuri noticed the shift in her attitude so he stopped in his tracks and arched an eyebrow. She kept her face as unreadable as possible.

  
  


He narrowed his eyes in suspicion and slowly, drew near the table where she sat behind. He leaned in to unfold a scroll.

  
  


She looked around her father’s private library when his sharp gaze focused on her again. They had spent the last hour studying Egyptian poetry and she couldn’t help but compare and argue women earned more respect in those works than that of roman authors, which prompted Zuri to give her a much needed sermon on the function of women in the Empire.

  
  


“ _Fides. Pietas. Virtus_ ”, Zuri repeated, “The roman lady must display _each one of them_.”

  
  


It was her turn to show suspicion.

  
  


“It seems to me Virtus in a woman is not as socially acceptable as the other two.”

  
  


“It does seem so because each trait must be carefully balanced, as all things should be.”

  
  


She remained silent for a moment, his words reminding her about Emperor Thanos’s early speeches about the importance of founding new cities because the Imperial Capital was overcrowded. But it turned out founding cities got replaced by a mass expulsion of the poorest citizens as soon as he succeeded to the throne.

  
  


“Too much Virtus leads to alienation”, Zuri said.

  
  


Before her preceptor could delve once again on the moral decay of prostitutes and female warriors, Shuri decided to realign the conversation on more personal matters.

  
  


“Do you think I display enough of each ?”, she asked.

  
  


The older man’s finger stopped tracing a path on the papyrus scroll and there was a familiar tic on his face, the one he couldn’t suppress every time he felt like walking on thin ice.

  
  


“Your Highness, it isn’t my place to-”

  
  


“ _Please_. I know my father must have asked you the same question. It’s only fair you get to answer me as well. How can I know how much I have to improve if everyone keeps my misgivings a secret from me ?”, Shuri insisted, lips quirked in a faint smile.

  
  


Zuri sighed and stood straight again.

  
  


“ _Yo_ _u don’t display any of them_ ”, he stated with a deadpan tone.

  
  


Her eyebrows raised at the confession for she knew she didn’t but it wasn’t in her preceptor’s customs to be this harsh with her. Zuri was usually soft and so in awe of her intellectual achievements that he begged her father to get rid of him once. He felt like an impostor having to teach a genius.

  
  


“Oh”, Shuri said as she blinked at him stupidly.

  
  


He hummed. “I dare say we both know you do not _lack_ any of these qualities. I’ve seen you show great loyalty and faith to Magna Wakanda. Your Highness does not display them solely for the sake of the Empire.”

  
  


At that, he rolled up the scrolls spread out on the table and brought them to a nearby cupboard encased in the wall. Even with his back turned to her, he kept talking:

  
  


“Lately, you’ve shown a great _interest_ in the display of Virtus in other men. So much that you lacked _Fides_ in front of your father the King.”

  
  


Her ears caught a faint blush and she lowered her eyes in self awareness. The idea of not attending the White Wolf’s combat put her in such a sour mood she nearly threw a tantrum in the main hall.

  
  


She prayed to Bast he obeyed her command and was still well and alive. The possibility of another outcome twisted her stomach and brought a bitter taste in her mouth.

  
  


“I do not have anything left to teach you about Mathematics or Astronomy for a long time. How do you feel about more literature. What about Catullus ?”

  
  


He took another scroll from the cupboard and unrolled it before reading aloud. Shuri thought latin was not very pleasant to the ears but as her old preceptor claimed his undying love for a woman called Lesbia, she couldn’t help but smile.

  
  


“Giving a thousand kisses would take a _lot_ of time”, she commented as soon as he finished reciting.

  
  


Zuri gave her an almost childlike smile, brown eyes full of mirth.

  
  


“Your Highness is very young. You have all the time in the world to prove that endeavor possible.”

  
  


Shuri averted her gaze, her mind drifting to her marriage. She was more than reluctant not to seal her fate with Petros but she couldn’t find a way out of it. The boy seemed so eager at the prospect and he had shown her nothing but attention and gentleness. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to feel the slightest affection for him.

  
  


Every time she tried to, her mind displaced her betrothed’s face for another, an older man, more rugged and more handsome. There was only one man that invaded her restless nights and she knew she would have to take her secret desires to the grave. Attending his combats was her only way to get close to him somehow and today, her father stole that small mercy away from her.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Kids were playing in the courtyard when she set herself free from her lessons with Zuri. She noticed her cousin’s coils immediately and in a burst of playfulness, poked him in the ribs from behind. That threw him off his game and he looked over his shoulder in offense.

  
  


He rolled his eyes when he recognized her. His playmates were the slave’s children and they looked at her in awe from their crouched position. Shuri giggled and peered over her cousin’s shoulders at the clay knucklebones.

  
  


“Go away, you killjoy”, N’Jadaka said as threw up one knucklebone and scooped some others spread out on the ground.

  
  


Shuri bent and caught one before it hit the ground, stealing it away from them. She juggled with it as she stepped backwards.

  
  


“Give it back”, he ordered.

  
  


“Aren’t you a little too old for this ?”, she replied with a defiant tone as she kept spinning and playing with the knucklebone.

  
  


“I said _give it back._ ”

  
  


His voice was full of grit and she should have known better than to rile him up. But he looked so ridiculous that she kept juggling and giggled some more, her eyes focused on the knucklebone as it soared in the air.

  
  


She lost her balance when N’Jadaka roughly shoved her and she felt the skin of her palms and elbows scrapping the gravel. He towered over her and Shuri’s words caught in her throat, the knucklebone laid on the ground.

N’Jadaka had never looked so _furious_ at her. Playing tricks on each other was the highlight of their childhood and she could barely recognize the boy who looked from his feet to her hands before putting one foot over her shoulder and pushing down.

  
  


“When I say something cousin, I _mean_ it.”

  
  


She felt bile rising in her throat as she understood what he was considering and closed her hands into fists. She bounced back with a grunt, folding her knees before using her feet for leverage to topple him to the ground. He yelped and without further ado, she straddled him and hit him with a rough blow to the cheek.

  
  


“Remember _who_ you’re dealing with”, she sneered.

  
  


But although he was only fourteen, N’Jadaka was larger than her and it took him no time to gather his wits and grasp her wrists. She only stopped thrashing when his knee stabbed her stomach and she squealed in pain. Still, she dug her nails on his cheeks before Zuri and other servants rushed to them, crying at them to stop.

  
  


A red haired little girl was clinging to the old man’s toga as servants helped Shuri standing back on her feet.

  
  


“What possessed you two to indulge in such _foolishness_ ?!! How dare you both forget the importance of your rank and upbringing !”, Zuri gasped as he stood between them, arms straightened to keep them from attacking each other.

  
  


Shuri twisted in the men’s hold and she only stopped thrashing when noticing it were her own bodyguards stopping her from fighting with her cousin. N’Jadaka looked as angry as she did, his brown eyes flashing murderous intent.

  
  


“ _She_ started it”, he gruffed and she noticed his bottom lip was split. The realization made her feel misplaced pride, immediately drowned out by a sense of shame and worry over him. He was the closest thing to a brother she had after losing T’Challa in a shipwreck.

  
  


“N’Jadaka-”

  
  


“ _I don’t give a_ _single_ _damn about your excuses_ ”, he said, voice filled with the same gravel Shuri’s hands were covered with.

  
  


She flinched but didn’t press the issue further and only stared as he bent to collect the knucklestone she had playfully stolen from him. Without sparing her a glance, he came back to where knucklebones and marbles were left discarded on the ground, the kids having abandoned them to search for adults who could stop the silly fight going on between the royal children.

  
  


Shuri winced as fingers grazed over her wounded elbow. Her gaze met Zuri’s and he shook his head in obvious disappointment.

  
  


“Too much _Virtus_ , your Highness. Too much”, the preceptor sighed.

  
  


In late afternoon, they were both called to her father’s study, standing side by side as the King of Wakanda roamed the room, rage radiating off his dark skin as he gave them a sermon. To say he was angry was an understatement. He was _incensed_.

  
  


“It is _my name_ you drag in the mud with you when you can’t contain your ridiculous selves !”

  
  


He thumped his hand on furniture and the gesture startled Shuri and she quickly glanced at her cousin. N’Jadaka kept staring ahead as if the situation was none of his concern. Her father jabbed a pointed finger in their direction.

  
  


“Did watching combats turn you both so foolish to the point of fighting against each other like low- ranked drunks?”

  
  


She heard her cousin smother a giggle. This didn’t go unnoticed and if looks could kill, N’Jadaka would be dead and buried by now.

  
  


“ _You_ ”, he gestured at N’Jadaka. “You’re a man by roman standards. It is now time you act like one. From this moment on, you’re going to accompany me for _each_ and _every_ business I must tend to. Hopefully, this will knock some modicum of sense in your silly little brain.”

  
  


N’Jadaka opened his mouth to protest.

  
  


“One more provocation and I’ll send you scour the latrines in the inner city. You know I can. You _know_ I would. Now you’re dismissed.”

  
  


The fourteen year old shut his mouth but his eyes were blazing with fury. Still, he gave a neck bow before disappearing behind the carved door. Shuri watched him leave and she couldn’t help but think his anger had another reason besides her stealing a piece of his games.

  
  


She took her sharp breath under her father’s hardened gaze.

  
  


Without preamble, he proceeded to talk about her wedding, rambling about possible dates for the engagement ceremony and dowry arrangements he had discussed with the Emperor. Shuri clenched her fists, wondering when her father had been replaced by this cruel and vile stranger who discussed the rest of her life like it were a business trade. Maybe this was all it was about. A trade which she refused to know the details about.

  
  


“ _I don’t want to_ ”, she said after a long moment of silence. She wanted her voice to sound firm and unshakable but it still quivered with anger and resentment.

  
  


“What ?”, her father asked but she knew he heard her well. They both knew. He was only testing her obedience, giving her a chance to take the words back.

  
  


Shuri said it again and his mellowed expression turned cold.

  
  


“Forgive me, daughter, for I gave you the impression this decision was remotely debatable. _It is not_. You will marry the Emperor’s nephew. He is more than suitable for you. A young, good man that-”

  
  


She shook her head, chest rising and falling to the rhythm of her rapid breaths.

  
  


“I don’t want to. I will not. I don’t want to, _baba please._ ”

  
  


He flinched under the use of the endearment but schooled his features before leaving his seat. Shuri’s eyes were shining with unshed tears but the older man looked completely unfazed. Instead of comforting her, he stood next to a nearby shelf and readjusted his toga, which edges were rimmed with vermilion.

  
  


“Our ancestors founded Magna Wakanda”, he said. “A thousand years ago.”

  
  


Shuri shook her head. She knew this story and could recite it by heart. She didn’t need a retelling. But this time, her father’s tale took another turn.

  
  


“The Roman Empire is a colossus, Shuri. It gave me no pleasure to surrender to Emperor Thanos but someone had to take that decision.”

  
  


He turned his head to her and for a fleeting moment, Shuri could see the softness and good nature left in her father.

  
  


“I had to spare my people a fruitless war, my child, for duty and love for my country. And now, I _must_ ask you to do the same.”

  
  


T’Chaka drew near her and took her by the shoulders.

  
  


“Emperor Thanos is an unpredictable man. I’ve seen him turn on his own allies...”

  
  


Shuri frowned as her mind finally painted the broader fresco of her arranged marriage, her heart drumming against her chest.

  
  


“When the moment comes and Thanos decides our province is not worth the investment any more, only a strong link to Wakanda will keep him from doing something irreparable.”

  
  


“A strong link”, she repeated in a whisper. There was no doubt her father saw her more as an asset than a daughter now. He probably thought half- Wakandan grandchildren would keep the Emperor from raiding the country like he did in so many other provinces. Shuri couldn’t help but think the idea was more a show of naiveté than a mastermind political plan.

  
  


T’Chaka squeezed her shoulders.

  
  


“Duty and country, my child. _Duty and country_.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Duty and country, she thought later that night as she watched the stars, barefoot and back resting against a colonnade on the upper story of the palace. The night wind tickled her cheeks as the stark white light of the moon casted shadows on her skin.

  
  


She couldn’t find any sleep and sneaked out of her room instead.

  
  


_The White Wolf won today._

  
  


She knew because she heard the gossips when she came across the slave quarters. He is alive, just as she playfully commanded him. Despite the pang she felt in her chest from being forbidden to attend his combat, their encounter from the night before still brought a smile to her lips.

  
  


She imagined him reading Catullus’s poems the same way Zuri did. Shook herself out of it when she reminded herself of his lower rank, wondering if the slave could even write or read. Surprisingly, his possible lack of education didn’t bother her and her mind wandered to an even more dangerous territory. What if he dreamed about her the same way she did about him ? The idea was silly to say the least. He was rumored to be attached to a _lena_ he visited on a regular basis. After all, it made sense for a White Wolf to be attached to lupas. Gladiators and prostitutes belonged to the same world according to her Greek preceptor.

  
  


The shudder she felt in her guts every time she thought about him came back with fierceness when she imagined his plump, pink lips against hers. The picture in her mind was so vivid she had to trace the outline of her lips with her fingers. They were practically aching with need.

  
  


It was a shame her betrothed couldn’t awake the same sentiments in her.

  
  


* * *

Perks of being a high ranked slave meant having the Empire’s best healers to tend to his injuries, Bucky thought as he stepped out of the infirmary.

  
  


His skin was coated in ointments and he only felt a slight buzzing pain in his broken ribs. He had been put to rest for two weeks after his last combat. The staff he came across on his way to the training field gave him gleaming smiles and the gladiator showed his respect by acknowledging everyone with a neck bow.

  
  


As he stopped to watch the training taking place in the arena of the gladiatorial school, he is reminded of his early days as a novice. Admittedly, he was a soldier before unwillingly becoming a gladiator but he was somehow grateful for Drax, the _doctore_ in charge of his training.

  
  


“ _Be on fucking guard_ !”, the _doctore_ shouted.

  
  


Bucky saw one fighter spitting blood and wiping his mouth with a brush of the hand while his opponent was still knocked down on the sand. Another pair of fighters were training a few feets away, their technique sloppy and frantic. He immediately knew these two were beginners.

  
  


A guard diverted his attention from male grunting and leather slapping against skin.

  
  


“ _White Wolf”,_ they said, hand stretched out to give him a package.

  
  


It was a brightly painted,rectangular wooden box. He had received similar boxes from fans before, especially from those who only wanted him as an instrument of carnal lust. He rotated the object in his hands before nodding at the guard to dismiss them butthe man still stood by his sides, which irked Bucky.

  
  


“Thank you”, he said with a pointed tone.

  
  


They smiled with an expectant look on their face. Bucky furrowed his brows in confusion.

  
  


“Aren’t you going to open it, White Wolf ?”

  
  


He hummed. “I probably will. _Later_.”

  
  


“Why not now ? Aren’t you a _lucky_ bastard ? You’re definitely the delight of roman ladies”, they snickered.

  
  


Bucky suppressed the urge to punch the complacent smile of their face. It was only when he came back to his barracks, in the aisle of the Ludus dedicated to similar ranked gladiators, that he sat at his cot to discover the gift. He opened the box and the first thing he saw were a few sticks stringed together for good luck. Then, his gaze was attracted by a the gleam of a trinket.

  
  


He let out a breathless laugh when he recognized the small, golden brooch was depicting a goat.

  
  


Bucky rolled it between his bandaged hands, his chest swelling at the memories of gorgeous dark skin and luscious braids flooding his mind.

  
  


_It’s a very noble dream_


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a month since she sent her gift to her favorite gladiator. Although she knew she couldn’t and _shouldn’t_ expect an answer from him, for he was probably training to die with honor, she still felt disappointed at the lack of acknowledgment, wondering if he didn’t like it. And what if he didn’t know the golden goat was from her anyway? She had bribed a string of slaves to get to him, much to her preceptor’s dismay, and felt a little stupid at the possibility the White Wolf would never know it was the Princess of Wakanda who showed him attention.

  
  


Their villa had a small bathhouse adjacent to the kitchens so the Princess relished in the grooming, soaking in the warm water and shutting her eyes while a servant kneaded her thick strands with olive oil and citrus juice. Another was scrubbing dirt and perspiration off her arms with a strigil. There was no social call today, no expectations to tend to. Her hands gripped the red porphyry of the bathtub as she tipped her head back for the servants to rinse the oil from her hair. As soon as they were finished, she dismissed them, watching their departure as they crossed the twin arches. Then, she went to a larger pool where the water was cold.

  
  


She hissed as she dipped her toes in, holding her breath while climbing down the steps and soaking her body from the waist down. Without long, she adjusted to the temperature and glanced around to check if she were effectively alone. She swam for a while before resting her back against polished granite, glancing down at her naked form. Her breasts were small and perky, her nipples hardened under the cold air. Her body had never been a source of fascination before but she’s heard the giggles and hushed tones when slaves gossiped while working, and she had small talks with her mother about what a wedding night implied. After all, her engagement ceremony would take place soon, right before the winter solstice.

  
  


She had no experience besides the single peck she stole from a childhood friend back in Wakanda and the furthest she’s gone with her betrothed was holding hands. Once, she had caught muffled cries and plaintive moans coming from the servants quarters in early afternoon, when she came back from paying her respects to the temple of Isis.

  
  


The cook and the coachman. Galba and Abrax. They looked like beasts joined by their lower halves, moaning in pain from the in and out movements of their hips. It had looked ridiculously wrong to Shuri at the moment and had sounded even more so when she had tried, and failed, to imagine Petros and her in the same predicament.

  
  


She palmed her breasts without any shame and shut her eyes, forcing her mind to paint her betrothed once again. The fifteen year old couldn’t be anything other than a virgin himself so she giggled while forming a mental picture of his flushed cheeks and stammers if she ever invited him to touch her so intimately. Took a sharp breath to calm her self while her spirit conjured him again.

But instead of his smooth palms, she felt big, calloused hands circling her nipples and a warm breath ghosting on her cheeks. Her breath hitched as she imagined chocolate locks tickling her neck and a stoned chest pressing against her breasts while the same large hands circled her waist. She felt her lower half clenching at the picture and without thinking, her fingers dipped in the water and reached for the center of her desire.

  
  


Ice blue eyes bore into hers and she swore she could feel the kiss he slowly pressed to her mouth. She was being so boring and predictable, she thought as her hands brushed against her lower curls, a high ranked woman lusting after a slave, just like in those tales of moral decay Marcellus warned her about. The warm feeling pooling in her guts turned to a blazing fire when she imagined every inch of him inside her, and pressed her engorged lips in up and down motions while sighing a quiet gasp.

  
  


A coughing sound echoed in the silence of the bathhouse and she snapped her eyes open, water splashing around and on her face from the force of her shaky movements.

  
  


“ _Mother_ ?!”, she croaked as she dipped further in the pool to hide herself.

  
  


And worse, Shuri noticed her mother was escorted by a completely baffled Petros.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Bucky closed the door to one of the inn’s private rooms before sitting at the stool beside the bed, where his friend was resting. The sound awoke Hilde who gave him a small, tired smile. Her complexion was greenish and a sheen of sweat was still coating her forehead, remnants of the fever that had been weakening her for weeks.

  
  


He squeezed her burning hand in his palm, waiting for her groggy eyes to adjust to the light. He felt a bit guilty for not having visited earlier. He should have known when he didn’t see her at the Last Meal that something was off. Hilde never missed those. But instead, his mind had been wrapped in his encounter with the Princess of Wakanda and ever since, her vision plagued most of his solitary pleasures, leaving the gladiator to feel shame in the aftermath of an act he used to find so common.

  
  


A very young, _untouchable_ , out-of-reach, too smart for her own good princess, that’s what she was. After all, he’s even heard of her upcoming engagement to the Emperor’s nephew. You couldn’t get more unattainable than that. It was a silly crush that was bound to pass, nothing to worry over, unlike the vomiting epidemic which plagued the inhabitants of the inn for weeks.

  
  


His friend blinked profusely and coughed, bringing a hand to her sore throat. He grabbed the terracotta flask on the bedside table to refill her cup, helping her sit up and drink as not to choke.

  
  


“One of my highest-ranked guests is paying me a visit and I’m not even wearing red ochre, how _low_ did I sink ?”, she quipped with a scratchy voice.

  
  


Bucky shook his head fondly, putting the vessels back on the table. “Not as low as a friend who didn’t even know you were ill before yesterday. You should have told me.”

  
  


“ _Child_ , you were too busy not to die”, she retorted with a dismissive gesture of the hands. She was only four years older than him but loved to remind him about it and acted like a maternal figure.

  
  


Bucky crossed his arms. “Please. Promise me you’ll warn me next time. I do not want to lose you.”

  
  


Her beautiful face frowned but she nodded slowly, her mind no doubt drifting to Stephanos. Hilde put her hand over his and pressed it. “ _I will_. Now, tell me who opened their big mouth. I want names. Was it Mantis ? I know she sneaks into M’Baku’s quarters sometimes.”

  
  


Bucky snorted and averted his gaze. “I will neither confirm nor deny it.”

  
  


Her giggles dissolved into another coughing fit and he helped her lying down, readjusting the cushions for more comfort. While he leaned in, her eyes focused on his shoulder and Bucky sighed when she gasped with a dramatic flourish. Sitting back on his stool, he folded his arms defensively.

  
  


“This is new”, she commented, eyes stuck to the golden goat pinning his cloak, fingers coming up to brush the trinket.

  
  


“It is.”

  
  


“I know for a fact you never sneak out of the training school for a trip to the markets so _what’s her name_ ?”

  
  


Bucky tipped his head back and groaned. “Could we please save idle discussions for next time ? My time is limited here and half of the staff of the _Pavo Cristatus_ is ill. This isn’t normal.”

  
  


“Poisoned water. Some idiot threw their dead cat in our well. Don’t bother. So, _what’s her name_?”

  
  


He sighed. Even after surviving a very uncomfortable illness, Hilde was still the same nosy, hard-headed woman. “Look, she’s not...I’m not-Alright. It’s a gift”, he shrugged.

  
  


His friend gave him a half-lidded, dead eyed stare. “What for ?”

  
  


“Because I’m alive.”

  
  


Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “What ?”

  
  


“She commanded me to stay alive and I did”, he said with a smirk.

  
  


“ _She commanded you to stay alive_? You let someone _command you_ to stay alive ?”, his friend repeated in disbelief.

  
  


Bucky rolled his eyes. “Hilde, I can’t tell you who exactly sent it to me because there was no letter attached to it.”

  
  


Subconsciously, his fingers stroked the brooch and Hilde's features softened. “She must be someone _special_ if you told her about the goats.”

  
  


“I didn’t tell her.”

  
  


“But she knows ? _How_ ?”

  
  


He tilted his head, scratching his beard and reminiscing about the way a girl that lookedhalf his size and weight came to his defense. Most Romans looked down on field labor but this foreign Princess definitely wasn’t like most Romans.

  
  


“I have a feeling you know exactly who gifted this little goat to you, Alba Lupus.”

  
  


“I do. And it’s because I do have an idea that I will keep this for myself.”

  
  


Hilde shook her head. “Gods ! I really did miss a fantastic banquet, didn’t I ? Never mind, I’ll do my own investigation on your mystery woman.”

  
  


“Meaning, you’ll ask Mantis to draw it out of M’Baku ?”, he quipped back.

  
  


“Exactly.”

  
  


Bucky chuckled with fondness and his eyes lowered to the snaking veins on his hands.

  
  


“Perhaps, is her attention _unwanted_?”, she asked, voice thick with worry.

  
  


His chest heaved as he straightened his stance on the stool and bit his lips. Unwanted ? It was a far cry from the truth. He _**relished**_ in her attention. Since the beginning of his career, he’s made a point not to smile or wave to his blood hungry fans in the arena but he knew that if she were attending one of his combats again, he wouldn’t resist sharing the flimsiest moment with her. She was really focused on him at the Last Meal and the memory still brought goosebumps on his skin. The realization he possibly caught her attention enough for her to send him a gift, which significance was so intimate, left him reeling.

  
  


“Well, it’s certainly not unwanted. But she isn’t from our world.”

  
  


Hilde nodded in understanding. Prostitutes and gladiators, they had to stick together. After all, they were bound to the same fascination mixed the same social stigma.

  
  


“Then perhaps, it is better you put a stop to it before she turns into a fury like Julia did ?”

  
  


Bucky’s gaze caught hers for a moment and he hummed while averting his eyes.

  
  


“ _Perhaps_.”

  
  


“A letter. Something simple but formal. I could work something up for you”, she proposed.

  
  


He sighed loudly. “I know why you’re suggesting this. But I won’t give you a name. And I can write and read, _thank you_.”

  
  


Hilde feigned offense. “I’m deeply wounded you put such little trust in me, White Wolf. And I know a few people who could deliver it for you with as much discretion as needed. We both know how entitled these upper-class women can be, _especially when they don’t get what they want_.”

  
  


Bucky stood from his stool and went at the single window, peering at the trade roads from there. It was the right thing to do. Putting down the sparks the princess ignited in him before his hunger for her could consume him. Nothing good could come out of this.

  
  


With one hand resting against the stone, he looked over his shoulder at Hilde.

  
  


“I might write something.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


The noise of iron-shod wheels against cobbled streets was the tell tale sign of theday’s end. Carriages were forbidden during the day so the influx of heavy carts, horses and mules in the narrow streets was fascinating to watch. Shuri was mindlessly staring at closing stalls and folks rushing to get back to their crowded buildings for the evening from her wooden bench. She scrunched her face when her nostrils caught the smell of waste. Opposite her, Petros was recounting his fortunate encounters in Ostia. She gave polite smiles and hummed noncommittally through his stories.

  
  


He insisted on accompanying her back to the villa, after they spent a leisure day in a nearby village. Spending time with him was slowly becoming more and more bearable. If anything, Petros was becoming a friend to her. At some point, the ride back home got bumpier and Shuri got hurled into him, nose pressed into his chest. He smelled of cinnamon and labdanum, she noticed before quickly disengaging, like his skin had just burnt her.

  
  


“My apologies”, she whispered as she got her palla back into a neat fold. His cheeks were flushed when her eyes looked at his face again. Lips stretched into a shy smile, he crossed his arms and peered through the window.

  
  


“This was not on purpose”, Shuri pointed out.

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


“But you’re _smiling_.”

  
  


He chuckled at that. She watched him intently. Petros licked his lips before looking straight at her.

  
  


“My face does that sometimes, Shuri. You should try it.”

  
  


She scoffed loudly when he wiggled his eyebrows and she gripped the edges of the bench while focusing on the road again. Streets were slowly emptying, until the only people left were a few merchants and stray dogs. Shuri rubbed her shoulders for warmth, avoiding the way his eyes traveled over her body.

  
  


Drops of water breached inside the carriage and soon, rain poured down the streets, the humidity adding to the cold. The loud whinnying of horses was followed by the sudden stop of their carriage. They heard the snap of a whip as the coachman commanded his animals to walk again.

  
  


One of Petros’s bodyguard was the first to leave the comfort of his seat to check for the horses. He came back a few moments later with an embittered expression.

  
  


“Your Highness, Princess Shuri”, he said in a thick, germanic accent, “We’ve been traveling on an unpaved road for a moment. Our front wheels are scooped up in mud and the horses are too exhausted. It is dangerous to carry on in these conditions.”

  
  


Petros glanced at Shuri before replying to his man.

  
  


“What do you suggest, Markolf ?”

  
  


“There’s a few establishments nearby. Granted, they’re not the best accommodations in the city but we could use some rest. As soon as the weather clears, I’ll loan another horse to get reinforcements at the Imperial Palace.”

  
  


They discussed the possible arrangements for the night, Petros nodded to everything and after a few minutes, Markolf came back with an even more contrite expression.

  
  


“Your Highness, Princess, all the inns are full and full of drunks. I suggest we keep your identities a secret for I’ve recognized a few armed muggers in there. There’s only one establishment a few minutes of walk away that could accommodate all of us with minimal roar.”

  
  


“Which one ?”, Shuri asked, voice dripping with impatience.

  
  


“The _Pavo Cristatus_ , Princess.”

  
  


“Then, we’ll go there”, Petros said. He looked just as eager as her to put a stop to the uncomfortable and exhausting travel.

  
  


“Well, It’s a brothel, your Highness. Disguised as a caupona. But I’ve heard there are great accommodations for high-ranked clients on the first tier.”

  
  


The young couple raised their brows at the admission. Petros’s cheeks flushed a bright red.

  
  


“We could always demand hospitality to some families. I have a few relatives that could welcome us for the night. This is the proper way”, Petros suggested.

  
  


Marklof nodded and proceeded to retrace his steps. Shuri called after him before he got too far.

  
  


“ _Wait_! I’ve never been to a caupona before. I want to see.”

  
  


The bodyguard looked at Petros for approval and the boy kept looking back and forth between Shuri and his man.

  
  


“ _Please_ ”, she begged.

  
  


He searched for truthfulness on her features and before long, he nodded at the German.

  
  


Admittedly, people of their ranks should never step into this kind of infamous establishments but they were still far from the palatine hill and Petros was a far cry from the little boy displayed on paintings of the Imperial family so there were few chances anyone would recognize him. As for Shuri, she had been discrete and closed off most of the time since her arrival in the capital. It took them a quick discussion to work up some backstory if someone ever interrogated them, Marklof suggesting they did as little talking as possible, though Shuri didn’t even plan on discussing with anyone.

  
  


Her own bodyguard helped her out of the carriage. She put the hood of her cloak on and spun as her eyes roamed the neighborhood. While losing their strength, a few lanterns were illuminating the streets, making some signposts visible. They’ve stopped right in front of a butcher, she figured as she read a plate.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Bucky knew when he had extended his stay at the inn that he would have to pay the guards at the training school an enormous amount of money for their silence. It was a miracle his lanistae didn’t already put him aside for a well earned whipping. It seemed the Grandmaster was particularly magnanimous these days.

  
  


He climbed down the stairs with heavy steps but a slight relief in his shoulders, knowing his friend was recovering. Wood cracked beneath his shoes, his body still slowed down from the injuries caused by his latest fight. He stopped by at the main counter to order some ale before settling in with his cup at a table.

  
  


From his position, he could see the entirety of the inn so he watched intently as a group of five passed through the twin doors, led by a massive man who reminded Bucky of his comrades. They were all wearing heavy wool cloaks and kept their hoods on as they asked for two private rooms. Bucky noticed a lone, slimmer figure which face was covered with a veil.

  
  


A woman alone in a group of four men. At night. Protective instincts raised as he swallowed down his drink before standing up. It wouldn’t be the first time rascals tried to take an unwilling woman to the inn.

  
  


Bucky loomed closer till he heard the chirp of Mantis voice.

  
  


“You’re very lucky we have two adjacent rooms available. Barns ? Yes, we have those too.”

  
  


He walked fast, slithering in between drunk clients. As he drew near and put his empty cup back on the counter with a loud thump, he noticed the woman flinching. But before he could intervene, she was led upstairs by a taller man, disappearing through the stone arches.

  
  


“Who are they ?”, he asked his friend without preamble.

  
  


Mantis made a move to refill his cup but Bucky shook his head, still watching the moves about of these mysterious clients.

  
  


“I don’t know. I’ve never seen them before. Believe me when I say the man I just talked to was so stiff he could work for the Praetorian Guard.”

  
  


Bucky pursed his lips and furrowed his brows.

  
  


“Don’t do anything reckless”, Mantis said as she searched his face.

  
  


“I don’t do reckless.”

  
  


“Says the man whose career is built on trying not to be killed. I know this face, Bucky. It’s your ‘ _I’m looking for trouble_ ’ face.”

  
  


“ _I am not_. I just think it’s very weird that they all stumbled on this brothel so early in the night. A bunch of men alone with a woman in a shady establishment...”

  
  


“It’s pissing rain outside and they’re only seeking shelter”, she retorted, “They look fine.”

  
  


“Haven’t heard her voice from the moment they entered. Have you ?”

  
  


“Maybe she’s impressed...”

  
  


“Or maybe, she keeps silent because they commanded her to.”

  
  


Bucky’s gaze met Mantis’s almond eyes and he could practically read the reminiscence of their first meeting on her face. He saw the inner struggle on her face before she confessed their locations to him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He glanced down at the erotic scenes depicted on ornate silver cups. The tray he was holding was heavy with delicacies: spiced red wine, a plate full of dates and another piled with mustacei, and some poultry covered in hazelnuts sauce. Mantis stood next to him. She was the one suggesting taking hot dishes to their rooms.

  
  


They had to exploit the occasion to gather as much information on the clients as possible.

A single knock at the door and it opened to a massive, sandy blonde man. Bucky tried to peer behind his broad shoulders. Their stern expression softened when Bucky lifted his tray. But it was Mantis’ gleaming smile that finally lit up their whole face.

They stood on the side and let the two friends enter the room.

  
  


Bucky nearly tripped when his eyes locked with the woman sitting on the single bed, her hands gripping the linen sheets tight. He could have recognized those slanted eyes from thousands. And there was no room for doubt when her eyes lowered to the golden goat bringing both ends of his cloak together and the Princess let out a quiet gasp.

  
  


Before Bucky could gather his wits, she spoke.

  
  


"Leave us."

  
  


The order was addressed to the man who now stood at her side. They blinked and looked at her in confusion.

  
  


"My lady..."

  
  


"I said: _leave us_ ", the princess insisted.

  
  


The second time, the guard finally obeyed, leaving the three of them to gauge each other.

  
  


Bucky felt Mantis watching him but he was too lost for words. The Princess was craning her neck to look at him, her expression wary. She glanced at Mantis and gave her a polite but contrite smile.

  
  


It kicked Bucky back into motion. He put his tray on a nearby, round table. Mantis watched back and forth between the princess and him, understanding dawning on her delicate features.

  
  


With a sheepish smile, she bowed and took her leave, leaving Bucky alone with the girl whose face plagued the few moments of rest he was allowed in a day.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

This place was not worthy of her and _neither was he_.

Still, without any other distractions, he was free to indulge and let his gaze roam all over her form, following the way she stood from the couch, gripping he saffron clothe draped over her dress. Her steps were slightly hesitant but there was nothing but a steel resolve in her eyes.

She came to a stop, leaving the necessary distance between them, two people of such different social standings. Bucky clenched his fists to keep from devouring her. His eyes did the devouring anyway, savoring fluttering eyelashes and plump lips parted open in surprise.

“ _White Wolf_ ”

Bucky drank in the accented tilt of her latin and the way she sounded just short of breath. His own chest lifted under his tunic and he felt breathless himself when unmindful, she got closer and _closer_ , and her lithe fingers raised while she gave him a questioning gaze.

“Can I ?”, she asked, her eyes focused to the brooch fastening his cloak on his right shoulder.

He nodded slowly and let the princess stroke the golden goat she gifted him. Then, her eyes lifted from the pin to his face and she gave him a genuine, awed smile. He was itching to just grasp her waist and press her close to him. But she was already so close he could feel her warmth.

“ _You’re alive_ ”, she said, relief evident in her voice.

It was only when she noticed his gaze falling to her lips that her breath hitched and she stammered, backing off, arms coming to hug herself.

“I’m alive, Princess. Just like you asked me to”, his voice rumbled. And even he noticed, it sounded thick with desire. Whatever the princess perceived, she let none of it transpire because soon, she schooled her features into neutral detachment, nose high in the air.

“I am deeply disappointed I missed your latest performance, White Wolf. But I promise you I will do anything in my power to attend your next fight. You better not disappoint me.”

She gave him a conspiratorial smile, one that sent a warm tingle traveling down his spine while his blood rushed south.

“I won’t, your Highness, and I will look forward to greeting you”, Bucky replied.

Gods, he hated himself for what he was about to do. But this tiny girl already hold too much power over him. She wasn’t safe in a stranger’s presence, especially in a brothel. _She_ _wasn’t safe in his_ , no matter what her rank could make her think otherwise, and she had to understand that. He had to make sure. She mustn't lose herself.

“Your Highness, what exactly are we doing here ?”

Her eyes went wide.

“What do you mean ?”, her voice fluttered.

Bucky took a step forward and slowly, he circled around her, his eyes shameful in their ogling. He felt her bristle, her breath quickening as she tightened her arms around herself. 

Clearly, she felt uncomfortable. _Good_.

Tilting his head to the side, he carefully considered what words to choose next. The princess was averting her gaze now. Poor thing. Containing the urge to embrace her, he halted right behind her and went for the first blow.

“ _Are you offering yourself to me_?”

His bluntness made her whip her head and spin to face him. Bucky swallowed the guilt.

“Wh-What ?”

“I don’t know anything about Wakandan customs but here in Rome, when a high-ranked woman sends a gift to a single man, a gladiator nonetheless, It’s most certainly the start to a courtship. Remember: I’m not your relative and I’m certainly not your friend.”

She blinked profusely and let out another quiet gasp. “I’m not. I didn’t mean-”

Bucky went for the kill now, letting one hand grasp her elbow. Her eyes fell downwards and he saw her lower lip quivering. He bent, let his warm breath tickle warm, dark skin, just close to her ear which had turned crimson under his attention, he insisted:

“First, the brooch. Now, you commanding your servant to leave us alone in a brothel’s private room. Your Highness, _Are you offering yourself to me ?_ Because I’m ready for the taking. Right here. Right then. You only have to ask.”

The gladiator prayed for her to refuse him because he damn well knew if she didn’t, he wouldn’t have the strength to resist her. He was a doomed man if the princess returned his desires.

When silence met his confession, Bucky decided to press further: “You said I had a very noble dream when we first met and believe me, there is _nothing_ noble about the dreams I have about you.”

This confession would probably earn him a punishment. Even a high-ranked slave was still a slave and if his master learned of this, Bucky was on thin ice. Nevertheless, he would gladly take a whipping, if it meant keeping her safe and sound.

* * *

Shuri couldn’t believe the vulgar words coming out of his mouth and hated her body even more for its reactions to it. Blood rushed to her cheeks and goosebumps were covering the skin of her arms, revealed by her sleeveless dress. She felt the burn of his touch on her elbow even after he had released it.

And she felt so stupid, letting this dangerous man in such close vicinity. What did she know about him anyway, besides the display of his lethal skills in the arena ? _Nothing_. He could literally break her in half if he wanted so. But at the banquet, what he said about retiring and tending to goats, it _touched_ her in the way no one had managed to since her arrival in Rome. It was unexpected and fascinating, like everything else about him. He sounded like such a good man then, the White Wolf. Oh, she was so naive, such a fool. For he was just like the others, a vulgar, slavish creature to his desires.

“ _Wanna feel how alive I am_ ?”

The obscene undertone made her eyes bulge and leave the idle contemplation of her sandals. His words were said with a honey suckle voice but his gaze was cold and calculating. Shuri knew she mustn't lose herself so she took a deep breath.

“I’m not offering myself, White Wolf. You should know that _I’m engaged._ You weren’t given no apophoreta at Senator Bassinus’s feast. I only meant to correct his mistake when sending you this brooch.”

His victorious expression immediately turned somber and she caught a feral glint in his eyes. For a split moment, Shuri wondered if he considered ending her life and she started to feel fear and disgust. Her hear felt like in her throat.

The White Wolf hummed and took a step forward. She was so stunned she didn’t even have the strength to call forth her bodyguard.

“So you don’t want me ?”

Her body was thrumming with desire, guts clenching in need, fingers itching with want. At this moment, she wanted him so much she ached for his knotted arms to embrace her. But her mind shouted at her: Duty and Country. 

Duty and Country. 

“ _I don’t._ And the fact you dare to think so is highly insulting”, she lied, maintaining his gaze.

He nodded and stepped backwards for the first time.

“You’re in a brothel, what for then ?”

“I do not have to give explanations to a _slave_. You should know to be cautious and give me the due respect earned by my distinction. _I am not one your lupas, White Wolf._ Neither am I one of those roman aristocrats betraying their distinction and virtue by whoring their way into a slave’s bed. And what are _you_ in a brothel for, instead of assuming your functions at the ludus, pray tell?”

Distantly, she heard a wooden door being slammed and the loud lapping of the rain. She clenched her little fists, awaiting for his reaction, body coiled and ready to snap lest he get any bad ideas.

“I was just done visiting one of my whores", he chuckled darkly, "Are you gonna _denounce_ me, Princess ?”

Shuri ignored the way his deep, low voice trembled in her own chest and crossed her arms.

“If you give me no choice, I will. _I am certainly not your friend”,_ she said with as much sneer as possible, repeating his earlier words and sticking her nose high in the air. Instead of feeling offended, he smiled and Shuri thought he looked nearly proud.

Loud knocks drummed against the door and she heard Petros voice followed by her bodyguard’s bemused speech. It was certainly the first time she felt any confidence at her betrothal. She arched an eyebrow for the White Wolf and walked towards the table where food was piling from the plates. She emptied the silver tray before holding it out for him to take.

“I believe we're done here”, she said in a clipped tone.

Then, in the direction of the door, she shouted for her entourage to come back inside.

"If you want us to be done, Princess, I suggest you not to send me anything in the future", he said before the door crashed open.

"Trust me, I will think twice about it", Shuri retorted without sparing him a glance.

Thereupon, she deliberately brushed him on her way to the door and stood still as a spluttering Petros rushed to her side, followed by Markolf and the guard she had dismissed earlier.

“Shuri, are you alright ?! Dammit, I shouldn’t have gone for the barns and left you alone. Valens said you were with a man in here and I-I just-”

Shuri gave a pointed look to her bodyguard who, for the first time since she knew him, was blushing to his roots. The White Wolf bowed his neck to the other men and smiled good-naturedly, completely unfazed by the fact every person present was suspecting them of having an affair.

Petros finally turned his head to look at the gladiator and immediately, he gasped in surprise.

“Is this- _Are you_ ?!”

"This servant has an uncanny similarity to the White Wolf, Petros. But he's nothing like him. I was just retaining him so he could explain all the recipes to me. Though mustaceis don't look nearly as delicious as the ones Galba is used to prepare for us", Shuri said in a deadpan tone. 

Then, she challenged the gladiator with her eyes. His brows furrowed slightly but he nodded.

"Oh", Petros blinked, "I could swear it were him."

His hand slid from Shuri's shoulder to her back. The White Wolf's gaze followed the gesture and when she noticed, Shuri leaned closer to her betrothed. 

"I could swear it were him too", she said. 

The White Wolf drew near them. He glanced back and forth between Shuri and Petros and she could practically see realization dawn on his face.

"People say that to me a lot. But I'm not the only one here who has a striking likeness to a public figure."

He looked Petros up and down and Shuri felt the fifteen year old brimming with nervousness.

"But I must be mistaken", the White Wolf indulged.

He bent his body in respect.

  
  


Before leaving, his blue steel lingered on Shuri's face and he gave her a sad smile. 

* * *

Bucky had left the golden goat brooch at the inn and instructed Mantis to give it back to the Princess. He intended, by freeing himself from the sight of it, to stop nurturing inappropriate feelings for her. Like the trinket was enchanted or something.

  
  


Her own brand of retaliation came months after their last meeting, so long that he had already buried whatever feelings she had stirred in him. Or he thought so.

  
  


Each passing day looked the same. Pain. Waiting. More pain. More waiting, rendered even more depressing by the arrival of winter.

  
  


This time, she sent him a kid, Bucky thought as he was called out of the refectory and his lanistae awaited him with fists resting on his hips, wearing a bemused expression. Behind him, Bucky saw the youngest _thracian_ and _mirmillo_ recruits interrupting their training. The clashing sound of swords colliding against wooden poles stopped and Bucky caught the faint sound of a bleating.

  
  


A _bleating._

  
  


He bowed to the Grandmaster and when doing so, he finally saw the baby goat nuzzling his ankles, its fur as fuzzy white as snow.

  
  


“I believe this is for you, White Wolf. Your fans really do have a sense of humor these days”, the other man said.

  
  


Bucky’s lips parted open and he couldn’t suppress a dark chuckle.

  
  


He bent down to brush the kid’s head and noticed he was wearing a collar; a sealed letter stuck within. Without further ado, he unrolled the papyri.

  
  


_I did think twice, White Wolf._

_Her name is Paloma. Do take good care of her. And d_ o _not_ _disappoint me_ _tomorrow._

* * *

  
  


_She was playing a game with him_.

  
  


He didn’t know why but she certainly was. Maybe out of boredom, as a way to distract herself from her pristine, ordered life. It wouldn’t be the first time bored ladies of the aristocracy launched themselves at him to spite their mellowed, much older husbands. He had a few of those in his career and to this day, Bucky didn’t know which person took more advantage of the other, them for bribing their way into a slave’s bed or maybe him who exploited their attentions to get back at men of high rank.

  
  


Though the princess wasn’t like any of those. And she was younger than he had presumed, given the boy in an over-sized toga who had escorted her at the inn. She stood really close to him and Bucky had figured they were a couple. To this day, the realization made him clench his jaw in annoyance. Perhaps, this was what it was all about: a young girl resenting her relationship with a boy, nursing a fascination on an older man she was bound to stay inaccessible to, knowing he was bound to his fortress and she was safe by entertaining him from afar.

  
  


Bucky was reminded of her adorable, flushed face when he had made his indecent proposal, her fierceness when she had reminded him exactly where they stood in the eye of society. If anything, her little outburst had ignited his desire further and it had taken every inch of his self-control not to hoist her up on the table and have his way with her till she _begged_ for him, pouty lips turned red and eyes glossed with desire.

  
  


But he was being a lecherous fool.

  
  


She didn’t want him in that way and made damn sure he understood. Still, the princess didn’t seem to appreciate him relinquishing her first gift. Gods, she was _brilliant_. With Paloma, she made sure he couldn’t get rid of her gift now it was a living, breathing kid. And Bucky thought, as he watched a trembling, scrawny recruit at his side finding comfort in caressing the baby goat she had sent him, that it didn’t matter if the princess wanted to teach him a lesson or not.

  
  


The Games would take place in the afternoon so there was no strenuous exercise this morning. After taking a hot bath and swallowing down some eggs and barley, Bucky simply sat down with a few other fighters against concrete stone, beneath the galeries surrounding the central courtyard. The wind was slamming their cheeks but they didn’t mind. It was preferable to staying in their cells. Fuscus had stolen a copy of the Daily Actsfrom the trainers quarters and he had spent the last minutes entertaining his comrades with currenttrials and the surge of the price of grain. Now, he was moving to read about events concerning the Imperial family. Bucky was listening with a façade of curiosity when in fact, he couldn’t care less about the gossip. After all, there was a slight chance but a chance still that he would die in a few hours.

  
  


“ _Public announcement:_ _Petros Aemilius Gracchus,_ _son of_ _the late_ _Prince_ _Aemilius Tullus,_ _and_ _nephew of the great Emperor Thanos,_ _will soon be_ _engaged to_ _Shuri Udaku,_ _daughter of_ _King_ _T’Chaka, and_ _princess of the province of Magna Wakanda._ _The betrothal party_ _will take_ _place on the_ _four_ _th_ _day_ _following_ _the_ _Ides_ _of December._ _”_

  
  


Whistling sounds, clapping and groans of disapproval erupted in their little gathering. It all turned to whine noise in Bucky’s mind. He didn’t know if he should scream in frustration or laugh at the ridiculousness. She was definitely playing a game with him because he stood no chance to that boy. He had enough experience to know in any other setting, he would. But he belonged to the Imperial family and he was a wretched slave.

  
  


“What’s wrong with her being Wakandan ?”, M’Baku’s voice rose amidst the bickering. His arms were crossed in a defensive stance and his eyes narrowed on Fuscus. Bucky couldn’t suppress a smirk when he lifted his head to catch his friend’s gaze.

  
  


“Well, she is no roman beauty, isn’t she ? I suppose so. I’ve never paid much attention”, Fuscus said as he scratched his bald head.

  
  


“The White Wolf should know. He got to see her real close at the banquet, the rascal !”, another snickered.

  
  


Bucky slightly shook his head and scratched his beard. “I didn’t see enough. And she’s a kid so _watch it_.”

  
  


“You know the roman way, White Wolf. _If she bleeds_ -”

  
  


“I kindly suggest you not to finish that sentence”, Bucky gritted, voice full of gravel.

  
  


What he said about Shuri, it was only a half-truth. She was strikingly beautiful, nothing like the roman standards of pale skin and dark doe eyes, and Bucky didn’t see enough. He didn’t see her as kid, far from that. He wanted more, so much more it scared him and wondered exactly what kind of beautiful he could discover beneath the princess’s clothes.

  
  


“I heard Emperor Thanos was considering his nephew as heir to the throne. He’s fifteen.A fucking kid ! Imagine being led to war by a boy”, Fuscus trailed.

  
  


A wave of snickers ran through the little assembly.

  
  


“Which also means your next Empress could be Wakandan”, M’Baku cackled, “To think you guys looked down on Aegyptus like that !”

  
  


This time, only M’Baku was having tremendous fun and Bucky’s shoulders were shaking with mirth. While sobering, he thought it would be an honor to be commanded by the princess. She was only a girl but the idea of her as an older, more powerful woman left his chest aching withlonging. And there was a misplaced sense of pride somewhere too.

  
  


“Stop spreading this kind of nonsense, Fuscus ! A Roman and a Wakandan ? I dread to see their astrological readings.”

  
  


“ _Forget the omens_ ! Am I the only one thinking this arrangement is pretty odd ? They’re hiding something from us. The country is called Magna Wakanda but for all we know, it’s a province of shepherds which provide fine silk to Rome and some wild beasts to parade at the Games ! Petros could have gotten a better arrangement with the Syrians.”

  
  


Bucky sighed and turned his attention back to Paloma. The little goat was blissfully unaware, snout nestled in the hollow between the younger recruit’s neck and shoulder.

  
  


“ _How do you guys do that ?_ ”, the kid asked. His question put a stop to the verbal hustle.

  
  


Bucky frowned and leaned in to hear the boy better. He couldn’t suppress the need to pet Paloma’s back in the process.

  
  


“Mmh ?”

  
  


“How do you do it ?”, he swallowed with difficulty. “I’ve been training for months and I’m still fucking terrified. How can you laugh and gossip when you could probably die in the afternoon ?! How can you laugh _with each other_ when you’ll fight to death soon? I know I shouldn’t say it-”

  
  


“ _So don’t_ ”, M’Baku said with a stern voice. “There is no place for whiners in the arena, kid.”

  
  


The other men stayed silent and grim, probably reminiscing their own fears as beginners. Bucky did.

  
  


“You go out there and you fight, just like you were taught too. Put on a good fight, entertain them and they’ll spare you”, M’Baku trailed.

  
  


Bucky nodded silently. The kid trembled even more, his eyes wet with unshed tears. He reminded him of Stephanos then and Gods, the vision hurt. Ignoring what his comrades might have said, he squeezed the recruit’s shoulder to comfort him and nodded when the kid’s gaze met his. Bucky wasn’t good with words, by no means. But he still wanted the boy to know he understood and was on his side.

  
  


“It gets slightly better, you’ll see”, Fuscus said, “Well, if you live long enough to. You’re lucky you’re a retiarus. Imagine running around with a shield and a helmet so heavy you can barely turn your head and see your opponent.”

  
  


M’Baku smiled. “Being a fishman is for those with pretty faces. No heavy armor, no helmet, just a net and a trident. Your entire body nearly bare for the world to see. Is this not Bucky ?”

  
  


“ _You bastard_ ”, Bucky huffed before focusing on the kid again. Then, he said: “In due course, _just win_. Don’t focus on anything else. _Win like you don’t know how to lose._ ”


	7. Chapter 7

One last time, Shuri took a look at her reflection in the polished bronze. Her hair was threaded with a gold net and she wore grape-shaped earrings that enhanced the curvature of her neck and shoulders. Tilting her head to the side, she checked for the fastening of her emerald cheesecloth, letting her hands slide over the drapery going from her right shoulder to her belt.

  
  


She was twisting her wrist cuffs for more comfort when she heard her door rattle.

  
  


“Just a minute !”

  
  


With a huff, she closed the lid to her jewelry box, took another hairpin dipping in a vial of almond oil before nabbing it to the side of her head. Another knock disturbed the silence of her room.

  
  


“I’m nearly finished, Umama, I _swear”_

  
  


Shuri sashayed her hair back with a brush of the hands and finally turned her back to the mirror.

  
  


“I’m still barefoot !”, she whined when a third knock thumped against the plated bronze.

  
  


“ _Shuri ?_ _It’s me._ ”

  
  


She hissed when recognizing Petros’ voice and bit her lips before standing. Styling tools still laid discarded on her dressing table and she glanced at the clutter before focusing on the door.

  
  


“Petros ? I wasn’t expecting you. My apologies...”

  
  


“Hum.. _.Are you decent_? Because I don’t want to disturb you like last time and-

  
  


“It’s alright”, Shuri stammered, ears turning crimson at the memory. “Just come in !”

  
  


The door opened and she saw Petros bow his neck before giving her a sheepish smile. He was alone for once.

  
  


“Hi”

  
  


“Hi”, Shuri replied with a small smile of her own. He strode in her direction and this time, she tried to meet him halfway.

  
  


“It has been a while”, Petros said, his eyes lowering to his hands. “Sorry to disturb you. I only needed a moment before escorting you to the Games.”

  
  


Shuri noticed his hands were firmly clenched on a round object and swallowed down a feeling of dread and anticipation. Petros scratched his throat and fiddled with it before daring to maintain her gaze again.

  
  


“Hum...Maybe you were expecting something more precious and beautiful but I thought it suited you so, huh...”

  
  


He glanced down once again and pursed his lips before stretching his hand out. Shuri accepted the gift with a small smile.

  
  


“It’s a portable sundial”, Petros explained as her fingers already stroked the brass, running over raised lettering.

  
  


“I remember you complained once about only seeing boys with one. And I know how knowledge is precious to you so-so I thought you’d like to know of time more.”

  
  


Shuri released a shaky breath and Petros mistook her silence for disappointment.

  
  


“But don’t worry ! You’ll have a ring at the betrothal party. Two rings if you want to !”

  
  


She shook her head at a frantic pace, biting her lips. “ _No_ ! Petros, this is just perfect. I’m really moved. _Thank you_.”

  
  


He sighed in relief and gave her a gleaming smile. Then, he sobered until his expression turned more serious. Shuri saw the way his adam apple bobbed down with difficulty.

  
  


“What do you think of it ?”

  
  


“Mmh ? It’s beautiful and practical.”

  
  


“I meant: what do you think of the sentence engraved there ?”

  
  


Shuri’s eyes lowered once again and she let out a quiet gasp. Veteresce mecum _._ _Grow old with me_. She felt like someone just sat on her chest and inhaled with difficulty.

  
  


“Petros, this is...”

  
  


“I know you don’t like me Shuri. And I’m not naive enough to think your feelings will change right after the engagement party. I want you to know how I feel about this marriage. It’s our sacred duty to obey. We don’t have much say in this. But Gods, I feel so lucky ! You’re kind, witty, beautiful and so grounded ! I wouldn’t dream of a better match for me. I know what you think, that I’m just a good-for-nothing boy in the way of your dreams. But I want to grow old with you Shuri. _I really do_. If you wanna travel the world, I’ll follow you in a heartbeat.”

  
  


His confession left her breathless and she kept her eyes glued to the sundial, blood rushing to her tympans.

  
  


“You’re not a girl. You’re a woman with dreams and desires, I know”, Petros trailed, “I saw you in the pool. These things will take time but believe me, I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to want me, even a little. _Perhaps_ , one day, you’ll like me more.” He said the last sentence with a less than confident tone but it still brought tears to Shuri’s eyes. And slowly, Shuri nodded. Bast, she had been so selfish all this time, nursing a stupid crush on a man she could never have, when the gentle hearted husband she longed of having was right under her nose.

  
  


Without thinking, she stepped forward and her lithe arms hugged his neck.His trembling hands then surrounded her back and he squeezed her in his embrace, his nose buried in her shoulder. They were practically the same height and fitted just right.

  
  


“ _Grow old with me, Shuri_ ”, Petros repeated, tilting his head back, and she released another stuttering breath.

  
  


“Okay _”,_ she sniffled, “ _I will_.”

* * *

  
  


This was how her mother found the both of them. Petros stroking Shuri’s back as she blinked back tears and gave watery, breathless laughs to his teasing. Ramonda arched an eyebrow at their lack of chaperone but the smile she gave them was indulgent. She scratched her throat and Petros disengaged with flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile. He bowed to her.

“ _Am I interrupting something_?”

Petros turned from pink to crimson, blush rising up his neck in red blotches, and looked back and forth between both women. Shuri clutched the sundial in her hands and crossed her arms defensively.

“I suppose I have to leave”, he said as he searched Shuri’s eyes. She bit her lips to keep from smiling and hummed. She lowered her eyes to her feet when he exploited the silence to bow one last time and leave.

Shuri lifted her eyes again and met her mother’s unreadable expression then. Ramonda slightly tilted her head as she studied her attire with an inquisitive gaze. She walked forward, closing the distance, and needlessly readjusted Shuri’s cheesecloth.

“This was inappropriate. You two must have a chaperone with you at all times before the betrothal party.”

“ _I know, Mama_ ”

“So why were you alone?”, her mother asked with a pointed tone. But Shuri could read the glint of humor in her almond eyes.

“I didn’t expect him just yet. We still have three hours left before the Games.”

Ramonda averted her gaze then. She groomed Shuri some more before tightening her own shawl around her shoulders.

“You look well today. I take it Petros finally mustered the courage to give you his engagement gift.”

Shuri’s arms slackened and she relinquished her grasp on the sundial, opening her palm to revel it to Ramonda.

“Did he tell you about it beforehand ?”, Shuri asked.

Ramonda shook her head. “No. He didn’t tell me a word about it. I would say I am offended he didn’t come for my advice but watching him try and bribe the slaves to know more about your routine and tastes was very entertaining. Apparently, he considered buying you goats at first. A strange but amusing idea.”

_Goats_. Shuri ignored the heat making her cheeks buzz at the memory. She wondered how much the slaves did talk about in Petros’ vicinity and if the kid she bribed herself to send Paloma to the gladiatorial school revealed anything incriminating. Well, there was no crime in sending the Empire’s best warriors gifts and tokens of affection but Shuri knew damn well how high-ranked women were perceived when they did so.

She stroked the object once more. “I really appreciate the gesture.”

After that, her mother diverted the talk to her appearance again and insisted to perfect her hairstyle. Shuri let herself be guided back to her dressing table with a reluctant sigh. 

“I wonder why people told him about goats honestly. _Care to enlighten me_?”, Ramonda asked as she disentangled Shuri's thick strands from the gold hair net. 

Her tone was seemingly serene but Shuri _knew_. She took a sharp breath and folded her arms.

There was nothing serious about it, she told herself. She wanted the White Wolf to know, after his little show of defiance at the _Caupona_ , that she was the princess and as such, the one to govern this flimsy relationship of theirs. Once she would get bored of him, she would stop. Besides, there was a possibility he would die this afternoon. And she was _engaged_ to the kindest betrothed her father could have ever found for her. Admittedly, both prospects made hair prickle on her arms and dread crawling up her spine.

“ _Do not lie to me_ ”, her mother warned.

“He’s a distraction, Mother", she replied after swallowing down the lump lodged in her throat. 

“There are better ways to entertain yourself, Dearest. Do not let him stray you away from your path.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. I am aware of how much we’re asking of you, my love. But remember this: your husband will be your only ally here. As soon as the wedding ceremony is finished, we’ll have to go back to Magna Wakanda. But you, you will stay here in the Imperial city. You cannot afford not to like Petros. He’s a good child. He will take good care of you, already swore it to me. You only have to meet him halfway now.”

She released a shuddering breath at her mother’s words. All the fibers in her body were still screaming no. But Shuri trusted her brain more than her heart. _At least, she liked to think so._ Marrying Petros was the right thing to do. 

A silence settled while her mother rummaged through her styling tools for an ivory comb. 

"It's always thrilling, to desire someone so much you feel like you could burn from it. Trust me, I know", she trailed with a soft, wistful tone, and Shuri had to try and turn to catch Ramonda's eyes then. But a firm squeeze of her shoulders kept her in place before the ivory comb brushed through her hair. 

"The fire you might feel for this bloodman will burn you if you're not cautious, Shuri. You have to be on guard at all times."

Expert hands threaded her mane and swiftly adorned it into a single, thick , dark braid. Shuri shut her eyes, committing the instant to memory she would no doubt revisit once her mother would return home.

"How do I drown it then ?", Shuri whispered.

"Time. Patience. Nurturing affection for your betrothed. Talking."

Shuri hummed and sat still as her mother pinned her hair at the base of her neck. 

"Sometimes- sometimes the only way to get rid of a fixation is to get it off your chest."

The words hold a certain nostalgia, and Shuri felt confused. The hold on her shoulders softened, and she spun at the stool to face her mother. 

"Whatever you need to say to that man, you have to voice it before the betrothal party. Before law seals your fate to the Imperial family. Or else, you might taste bitter regrets till your hair turns silver and the longing eats you from the inside out. And Dearest, you cannot afford to resent your betrothed because of your own misgivings."

Shuri let her gaze fall on one of the jars and without thinking, she dipped her hands in and retrieved the golden goat brooch she had sent to the White Wolf months ago. It felt like touching a relic. Maybe because it would be one soon. 

She prayed to Bast it wouldn’t come to this because, in spite of everything, the knowledge he was breathing and living somehow soothed the ache of being without. And her mother was right. At this point, what she needed was closure.

Shuri made her decision while stroking the goat's curved horns.

"If he makes it out of the arena today, I will see him."

"Shuri, what I meant-"

"I will see him. And l will say good-bye."

There was a steel resolve in her voice that made Ramonda stare long and hard before she nodded in approval.

* * *

“I knew I’d found you here.”

Bucky lowered his eyes to the tree limb he was fiddling with. Grim and full of guilt, he sat a rock where he could see the entirety of the graveyard. M’Baku stared at him for a moment before looking at the soft pink and orange tones of the sunset flashing in between dormant trees, deliberately avoiding the brand new tombstone a few feets away from them.

“This is not your fault. You couldn’t have stopped it. Even if you wanted to”, M’Baku said as he focused on him again. Bucky shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet his friend’s concerned expression. He nodded noncommittally, his mind still drifting to the kid’s last hours in the arena. The random draw had proved his cruelty once again as it pitted retiarus against retiarus. It had been a good fight still. But every inch of him felt rotten. He was moldy to his core. Admittedly, he had killed countless times before but never did he have to spear someone who trusted him. Someone he had tried to reassure hours before fighting. Someone he helped train.

Bucky thought of the kid’s face then, when he had reluctantly given him the final blow. The boy died like a man, swallowing down his horror and instinct to beg for mercy, maintaining Bucky’s gaze till his heart stopped pumping and he laid limp in Bucky’s arms.

Blinking back tears of anger at the memory, he clenched his jaw and stared ahead.

“I could have ended it. But I didn’t.”

“Bucky-”

He raised his hand to stop his friend’s protests. “No need to coddle me, M’Baku. I killed the boy like the rules commanded me to.”

“I would have done the same. We all swore the same oath”, M’Baku insisted with firmness.

Bucky gave a mirthless laugh then. “You know what's really ridiculous about this ? I keep on being a gladiator even though I’ve already assured the ten wins I owe to the Grandmaster. In hopes of avenging Stephanos from the bastard who murdered him in the way he would have wanted. Fair and square, in the arena. But today, I killed a kid who looked just like him.”

M’Baku stayed silent and after throwing the tree limb away, Bucky winced and stood before looking far ahead. Truly, it felt like he betrayed his friend’s memory today. He swallowed down the guilt as he walked to the boy’s gravestone. His name was Aurelius. It was his first and only fight.

He clenched his jaw again as his hand ghosted over the stone. He gave it one last, sorrowful pat before turning his back and facing his friend. A painful silence settled, interspersed by the sound of wind waving through brittle leaves.

“Life finds a way, Bucky”, M’Baku said in a solemn tone. “You’re brave enough to know how to kill and die for something.”

He furrowed his brows. Bravery isn’t the sentiment he would call the madness driving him, driving them all to the arena. But M’Baku had never looked so serious so he stayed silent and receptive to his friend’s comments.

M’Baku walked forwards and halted right in front of him.

“How many bodies do you need to align before stopping your blind quest to avenge Stephanos ? He knew the rules too and still insisted to be a gladiator despite his appalling health. You need to stop letting him haunt you. And what if you never get pitted against Flamma anyway ? You plan to die by the sword in vain ? This is insane.”

Bucky simply maintained his gaze with an air of determination that made M’Baku scoff and roll his eyes.

“ _White Wolf_. You need to stop letting your life be guided by what you’re ready to die for. And start asking yourself what you’re ready to _live_ for.”

He thought of her then, and the same feeling of misplaced pride and possessiveness swelled in his chest. His princess looked even more regal than usual at the Games, looking down on him from the Podium with most of the Imperial family. She sat right at her future husband’s side and Bucky cursed his excellent eyesight when he noticed the two of them were joining hands the whole time. It was fair to say she ignored him during the gladiators parade, and did so when he came to salute the Royals after his unfair win. Whatever flimsy relationship they had, she was apparently done with. Now, only his dreams would give him the privilege of having her up close. 

“Besides goats and a farmstead”, M’Baku added with a deadpan tone, and Bucky couldn’t suppress a wheeze.

“You are right. I don’t have much to look up to”, Bucky finally admitted before walking away, ready to take the path that would lead them back to the training school’s inner courtyard.

“ _She’s with child.”_

He stopped in his tracks and slowly looked over his shoulder before facing M’Baku again.

“What ?”

“Mantis. She’s with child”, M’Baku repeated before inhaling a sharp breath. After the initial confusion, Bucky guffawed and drew close to give this friend a warm accolade.

“ _God_ s. No wonder you were so selfish to the kid’s fate. Well, congratulations man!”, Bucky said as he gave a genuine smile, his hand still resting on M’Baku’s shoulder.

M’Baku nodded solemnly. “Thank you. The child is due for June.”

“Pardon me but you don’t look awfully elated by the prospect.”

“Trust me, Buck. I am. But our careers are what they are and I’ve just joined a collegium, if the need to pay for my funerals ever arise. I still haven’t gathered enough to pay for Mantis’ freedom yet. And I wanted to do this right and marry her first. _Bast_. I’ve ruined everything.”

Bucky shook his head with fondness. “Why don’t we discuss the good news in the refectory. I wouldn’t want any bad omens coming from discussing your first child in a graveyard.”

M’Baku’s lips slowly stretched into a smile and he nodded before walking.

* * *

Bucky thought she was done with him and he certainly missed her. But days later, the princess was the first thing he saw when he came across the empty stables to take a look at Paloma before settling for the night. He had chosen the stables for fear she would end up in a pot if she stayed in the goat barn. 

At first, he believed he was dreaming her. Then, he figured some woman from the staff would have taken a liking to his little goat and come for a late night visit. 

He made out their profile as he drew closer and closer, his torch conquering the darkness, and as soon as he recognized her, Bucky felt an irrational, intoxicating mix of relief and anger. She had no business being here. What in the hell was she doing ? At least, she thought to wear relatively worn and used clothes instead of her usual, magnificent dresses. But the disguise was too obvious in Bucky's mind. She still stood to her full height instead of the slight slump of the shoulders and cowering expected from low ranked servants. And her hands, which were caressing Paloma's fuzzy white fur, still looked smooth, untouched and pristine. Just like her entire person. He tried to ignore the way his mouth watered at the idea of being her first, in whatever way she wanted. 

He saw her bristle as she noticed his presence. Paloma bleated happily. Ever so slowly, the princess turned to face him as he fixed his torch inside a scorce before standing still next to a stone trough, where the dim light of her own oil lamp was resting. 


	8. Chapter 8

"White Wolf"

"You shouldn't be here, your Highness. Why are you ?"

It came out with more gravel than intended but truly, he was sick of circling around. She had to stop messing with his head. Had to stop being so reckless. 

He saw her set her plump lips into a thin line and he had to take a step forward. She was not safe with him. She couldn't trust him. Why did she not understand that ?

"This is not your world. Go home."

"Well, It's a pleasure to meet you", she retorted with perfectly contained anger. 

This time, she walked in his direction and discarded any care for proper etiquette when she stopped to face him. 

"I would say congratulations but I know how you fought in the arena. You were saving your blows, White Wolf."

Bucky gave a long suffering sigh, his eyes darting to the cave walls surrounding them. 

"Princess, why are you here ?"

He felt a tiny hand raising to grab his chin and pull to have him focus on her. The contact made him tense like a bowstring, his brows only softening when he stared at her and noticed her stern expression. She looked so much older than she was in this moment. 

Her eyes fell to his lips for a blink and he felt her shiver. She immediately released him and retreated a few steps away. The ghost of her touch still left his skin buzzing.

"I am here to visit my favorite old goat. Isn't it obvious ?"

He needlessly scratched his beard, ignoring her quip. "You should really go home."

She furrowed his brows under his dismissive tone.

"Are you done ?"

"Wh-What ?"

"Are you done being unnecessarily cruel just to push me away ? I am not a kid. I am seventeen."

She was on the verge of pouting and Bucky couldn't contain a dark chuckle. 

"Go back to your future husband, kid. I know an underground passage where you can slip unseen, come with me", he rumbled before turning his back on her and making a move to get his torch. His hand hovered over the wooden handle as she interrupted.

"How do you really feel about me ?"

"What do you mean ?", he stuttered. 

"You didn't seem much concerned by my youth at the inn. Did you ?"

Bucky knew he should have shut up then. That he was out of line. He turned to face her. 

"I am sorry about that, Princess. My apologies. This won't happen again", he said, clenching his jaw.

* * *

The look he gave to her betrayed his words. But he kept being patronizing and cruel all the same.

"I misjudged. My taste in women doesn't usually involve little girls from foreign lands. Come back when you've grown up and I might reconsider."

She inhaled sharply before crossing her arms, ignoring the blow to her self-esteem. 

“Is this about your wedding ? Are you having doubts ?”

Shuri averted her gaze then and heard him snicker. It only irked her further and she suppressed the urge to throttle him. She pursed her lips and raised her chin.

“I dare say you can make through this arrangement easier than some young girls thrown to irascible ancient men. Consider yourself lucky, Princess. You’ll be fine in the Imperial Palace”, he said before looking around the empty stables. “And I don’t want to be your plaything simply because you’re bored with your perfect, ordered little life. I’ve done enough of that in the past.”

“I’m nowhere near as free as you like to think, White Wolf”, she retorted. That made him shake his head. Shuri knew what he saw at this moment. A spoiled, entitled, bored brat in need of distractions. She couldn’t deny some of it were true but there was more to her than that. More to what she felt for him.

“Tell me, were you ever taken to a cell in shackles and chains ? Did you ever feel hungry ? Because this is what all the glory of being a gladiator is about. Ridiculous amounts of money you’re barely allowed to use and the promise of a certain death. You told me so before. I’m a slave. You’re a princess. So allow me to guide you out of here. This is not your world. ”

Shuri bristled under his cynical tone but soldiered on. “I’m not here to compare my distinguished form of oppression to yours, White Wolf.” She saw him watch her intently as he nodded. “You are right. I could do worse than the Emperor’s nephew as a betrothed. He loves me and respects my opinions. I've never met such a kind soul before.”

She took a step forward. He furrowed his brows.

"Right. Go back to him then", he sneered.

She shook her head. “I wanted to see you. Why can't you just admit the same ?" she whispered. “And I’m nowhere as assured about this betrothal than I would like to be. My future husband, he’s a wonder but I don’t deserve him...”

She saw him clench his jaw, nostrils flared in annoyance before sniffing and for a second, she entertained the idea of his jealousy. But he was most probably irked by her selfishly turning the conversation around her upcoming wedding.

“What I mean is...I don’t have much say in my fate, just like you. _But I know my heart_. This is where my freedom lies. Because It’s all mine.”

She took another step towards him and saw the way his chest rose and fell beneath his tunic, and the red blotches rising up his neck at their proximity. Good. He looked as affected as she was. He referred to her as a kid before but his body didn’t lie. This gave her enough ammunition to go on.

“And I don’t want to make any compromise about my heart, White Wolf.”

Her hands were trembling but she still found the strength to grab his hand. It felt warm and rugged, so much bigger than hers that she couldn’t surround it all. She took his wrist instead and watched snaking veins and scratches on his tanned skin before lifting his hand with a questioning gaze. He released a shuddering breath, his eyes focused on her face.

At this point, she knew she had to stop. This wasn't what she had planned. For days, she had cooked this hidden meeting of theirs. Relied on her small network of merchants, beggars and slaves to help her organize her way out of the Palace. She was supposed to say her truth, say good-bye, not feel his calloused skin.

“ _Shuri_...”

The sound of her name rolling on his tongue for the first time since they had known each other made her eyes fog. She brought his hand to her neck and suppressed a needy whine at the contact, shutting her eyes. She felt his other hand grazing her cheeks before sliding down and cradling her neck as well.

"Let me show you, _old man_."

“You don’t know what you’re doing. Stop at once”, he said, his thumb grazing the spot where her pulse buzzed against her skin.

“ _I know_. I know there’s no return after this but I’ve made my mind. _Please_. Just one taste. It’s all I’m asking for. Then, I’ll get married and you’ll never hear from me again. I promise.”

She opened warm brown eyes to look at him and let out a shuddering breath, her heart thudding so hard against her chest it nearly ached. He leaned in and she inhaled the scent of soil, leather and sweat coming from him. He was all strength and knotted muscles and she wanted nothing more than to curl around him and stay there forever.

“You’re so precious, _so young_ , how am I even allowed to touch you ?”, he marveled as he tucked one loose braid behind her ear.

This time, she did whine out loud and heard a dark chuckle in return. She squeezed his thick wrist one more time before sliding her hand down, letting it travel til she reached the skin of his forearm. She pulled at the clothe around his elbows then.

“Because you owe me White Wolf”, she whispered, standing on her tiptoes so she could press her forehead against his.

“Do I ?”

“ _Mmh_. You’re being _very rude_. I keep sending you gifts and I never receive anything from you.”

He chuckled and she caught the predatory glint in his eyes as he tilted his head to study her. The rapid rise and fall of her chest gave her away before she released another needy whimper.

“What could I even offer to a princess who already possesses everything ?”, he huffed against her ear. She clutched his broad shoulders harder and gave a breathless laugh, her mind drifting to her mother's words and her own. Her heart briefly panged for Petros. But this was her only shot at unadultered freedom so she mustered just enough selfishness to take it. To take this one taste before sealing her fate to Rome. 

“A _munus_. You know of those right ?”

He hummed and bit his lips. “A gift of self. Is this what you really want ?”

Shuri shook her hand at a frantic pace. “No, White Wolf. _This is what I need_.”

“Then command me to, Princess”, he said, eyes clouded by desire. The hands on her neck slide down to her waist to knead her hips through her dress.

She hissed under the assault to her senses and breathed out an answer that sounded more like a prayer than a command.

“ _Kiss me_.”

Immediately, she felt the soft, sweet press of his lips against hers. Too soon, his mouth left to peck on her chin.

“Is this okay ?”, his low voice rasped against her skin. But Shuri had no modicum of sense left to answer him. She was too drunk on his touch, his scent, his chest pressed against the small swell of her breasts. 

“Close your eyes”, he whispered.

"But I want to remember everything..."

"Remember me with your mind, love. Just feel me now", he said before kissing her forehead. 

She bucked her hips against him, her gaze furious. That made him chuckle again before he pressed another feather light kiss to her lips. This time, she grasped the base of his neck to keep him still as she opened her mouth wider. He moaned and bent to meet her, pulling her to his chest as she invaded his mouth with tentative flickers of her tongue. This kiss was all tongue and teeth and slobbers and while she shut her eyes, she felt him grin under her feral, inexperienced enthusiasm.

All of a sudden, he pulled back, his thick hands coming up to cradle her neck again.

“ _Not so fast love_ ”, he lowered his voice.

She jutted her lower lip in frustration and his answering growl ignited her consuming need for him. He pulled her plump lip in between his teeth before flicking it with his tongue to soothe the ache. Then, he tilted her head to the side so he could have unadulterated access to her mouth. He drank myrrh from her lips, slow and sensual, and Shuri let him as she melted, bliss traveling every inch of her body. That was more than she dreamed of, and so much more than she deserved.

“Just like that”, he whispered against her mouth in between pecks, making her knees weak " I’ve hungered for you for so long. There’s no need to rush. You wanted a taste right ? let's make it last."

"Yes...", she slurred.

"Let me _savor_ you then, your Highness."

He pulled her to the nearest wall, caging her body with his massive frame against the concrete stone. Then, his warm tongue swept in her mouth at a more gentle pace. That's when Shuri knew she was doomed. How could she ever live without this now ? It seemed he breathed his very essence into hers and she lost track of time, caught in the mist of their combined desire and ragged breathing..

It was him who sobered first and put a stop to the kiss. His absence left her bones aching with longing, her lips still buzzing, engorged by the give and take of his mouth.

The White Wolf took a few steps backwards then, back to leaving a respectable distance between them. Her chest rose and fell while her eyes fogged once more. She inhaled and blinked back tears, hit by the realization of what they just did. What she begged of him. What she just betrayed. What she had to do now. 

"There you go, Your Highness. A taste."

  
  


* * *

She rose to the feel of a hand stroking her back in soothing motions and a soft sigh that didn’t come from her. Her cheeks were pressed against a stoned chest, right near the sound of a quiet, steady heartbeat. She blinked and winced when she felt her eyes and cheeks were crusted by dried tears. Then, the earlier events came back to her. She cried herself to sleep like a child and the man who was holding her in his embrace was the White Wolf.

They were still in the empty stables, his back pressed against stone, legs spread to make space for her. Guilt settled in immediately when she scrambled to face him again. She had to kneel and grip his arms to do so, and he looked back at her with the kindest expression she had ever seen. Her heart swelled at the sight. Bast.

“ _Hi_ ”, he whispered. Shuri bit her lips to keep from smiling like a fool, her eyes darting to the ground, where remnants of straw were scattered. She was an utter mess in front of this man.

“Hi”, she replied with a breathless voice.

He raised his hand to caress her cheek, achieving to break her heart while bringing her indescribable happiness at the same time. She couldn’t help but sigh and press her face into his palm, closing her eyes to commit the moment to memory. She could at least afford this.

“How long did I fall asleep ?”

His thumb slid down to her mouth, tracing the outline of her lips. She shivered under his touch. This wasn’t even meant to rile her up from the look of quiet content and contemplation on his face. Maybe her gladiator was memorizing her the way she was trying to do for him and the idea made Shuri feel both powerful and incredibly vulnerable.

“Long enough for your lamp to burn out.”

Shuri scrunched her nose and he gave a quiet chuckle, one arm tightening around her middle, bringing them closer while another wiped off her tears. “I should have been gone ages ago”, she said with a muffled groan. She had exceeded her stay for at least an hour. But she didn’t make any move to disengage and instead, she brought her hands to his broad shoulders, drinking him in.

“My preceptor is probably having a heart attack”, she trailed with a deadpan tone that made him snort.

“It’s not morning yet, your Highness.” He tilted his head back to take a better look at her and the gesture made her weak in the knees. She buried her face in his neck in shyness, relishing in the way he kept caressing her back. He gave a questioning hum. She looked back at him and this time, she was the one to trace the planes of his face with her fingers, lingering on his sharp jawline under the scruff of his beard and needlessly smoothing the arch of his eyebrows.

It was so simple and yet felt so intimate she couldn’t help but stop when his gaze became too intense for her to bear. She sighed, suppressing the urge to weep again. He frowned and leaned in, nose brushing her cheek.

“ _This is so hard_ ”, she nearly cried.

“Princess...”

“I was supposed to say goodbye.”She put her hands back on his chest then and pressed for him to disentangle the knot of his arms around her. But the White Wolf didn’t let go and kept scrutinizing her face.

“Do you really want to ?”

She shook her head. “ _Bast no_. But I don’t have a choice.”

That’s when Petros came to her mind. His kind eyes, the sharpness of his cheekbones which made an odd contrast on his overall mellowed face, his hair which color reminded her of sand set ablaze under the sun. And most of all, his affection for her and the promise she made to grow old with him. This was so hard, hurt so much she felt split down the middle from the pain. But she had to let go. This wasn't their time.

Shuri saw him clench his jaw and avert his gaze for a moment.

“We always have a choice”, he said in a solemn tone. Still, his hold on her loosened enough for her to slip out of it.

Minutes later, he was guiding her into the underground passage, leading the way to a secret exit with his torch. Shuri had sent slaves on a mission to identify the gladiatorial school’s entrances and exits days before and they did tell her about it. She stayed silent the whole way, hugging herself as they roamed the tunnel, thinking that maybe, in another life, she would be allowed to be with him. Because her fate was already sealed to another in this one.

Her breath hitched as they neared the exit and she grabbed at his cloak. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. Shuri shook her head and forced a smile. There was so much she wanted to say she felt choked up with it.

“ _Thank you_ , White Wolf. For the taste.”

He tried to turn to face her but she pressed her forehead against his back, urging him not to and shutting her eyes to muster enough courage to confess. She had to say her feelings and she couldn’t bear the weight of his eyes on her. Those ice blue eyes of his pierced through her like nobody else did.

“ _I cannot see you again”_.

“Why ?”

“Because I want you too much and I am sick of pretending I don't. I’m not strong enough to”, Shuri nearly whimpered before immediately feeling self-aware.

“Do you love him ?”, he asked abruptly.

Her breath hitched at that. The answer was clear as day in her mind. To her, Petros was like a candle. A gentle, quiet light. But the White Wolf ? He shined as bright as a star in her universe. “I will learn to”, she said after a moment of silence. Slowly, she released her grasp on him and slid one arm over the other. He exploited the moment to turn around and face her. She drank in the way the flames of his torch were like tongues of fire, eager to lick at his face, highlighting his chiseled features. It would have been the perfect picture if his face weren’t the portrait of contained anger and fear, a deep set forming between his brows.

“And I’ll be fine, thanks to your gift”, she insisted. And there was some truth to that. He’d given her enough taste to put her daydreams to shame and fuel her remaining fantasies for years to come.

The White Wolf stretched out his hand and with another forced smile, Shuri put her hand in his. After weaving their fingers together, he searched for her eyes.

“I’m the one who is forever indebted to you, your Highness”, his low voice rasped. “ _Thank you_. I’ll never forget yours.” He squeezed her fingers tighter then. Shuri felt a tightness in her throat, giving him a slow nod nevertheless. She knew he wasn’t simply talking about the goats. There was so much she wanted to give to that man, herself first and foremost. She freed her hand before crossing her arms and plastering a smug smile on her face.

“I bet you’ve never had anyone give you a living gift before, White Wolf. Am I wrong ?”

His eyes ran over her face intently and he offered a small smile.

"There's only one woman who could come up with that. Wonder why", he hummed in mock interrogation. She giggled a bit before giving an exaggerated shrug. 

"I should have left a scar on you too, just like your battles. So you never forget me", she quipped. There was a hint of truth somewhere. At this point, she knew she could never forget him so the darkest part of her mind wanted him to feel that yearning forever too.

His eyes lowered to her lips. 

"Trust me, Princess. I don't need a scar to remind me about you. I will think of you every day", he replied as his stare focused to her eyes again.

She blushed and faced the end of the tunnel then and let out a resigned huff. 

"My entourage. They've been waiting for me."

He glanced over his shoulder, noticing the two lone figures awaiting her far away from them. His jaw tensed for a moment before his expression softened. He brought one hand to caress her cheek one last time. Shuri suppressed the urge to scream and beg him to save her. Save her from what, really ? A marriage which would uplift her social rank even more if possible while giving her an adorable, patient husband ? At this point, the only menace in her life was the White Wolf. For her heart. For her mind. 

"You say you don't have a choice in this. That you won't see me anymore ?"

"Yes..."

"I don't want today to be the last time I see you, love. Will you let me be the one to give a command this time ?"

Ignoring the tongues of fire licking her cheeks at the prospect, she slowly nodded. He took a step forward and stretched his hand to keep the torch away from them. 

"This depends", Shuri said with an uneven voice, " What is your order, White Wolf ?"

"Wait for me."

She let out a strangled, frustrated moan then. "I can't. My betrothal party is tomorrow, it's my duty to-'

His thumb pressed against her lips to stop her upcoming tirade. She looked back with furrowed brows but kept silent. 

"I am not asking you to wait for me forever. If I die, you'll know. I'll come at your door step, by any means necessary."

Shuri frantically shook her head then and it seemed her gladiator couldn't suppress his need for her any longer because he bent to give her a searing kiss. Her arms folded around his neck to have him longer, drinking in the low rumble of his throat, the scent of him, the scruff of his beard scratching her sensitive skin. Zuri and the merchant they paid for the night to play guard could probably see how she was losing herself to another than her betrothed but she didn’t care.

"Stay alive, I beg of you. _Please, don't die"_ , she said softly against his ear, her eyes clouding again while his mouth peppered kisses on her cheeks, then down to her neck.

"Shuri...If you don't have much control in this, relinquish what little you have to me. I'll either die at your doorstep or steal you away. _I promise_."

She stared long and hard. _Bast_! There was so much defiance and confidence in him it caused her guts to flutter, her folds clenching around nothing for the umpteenth time that night. Her heart was drumming against her chest, battling with her mind as she considered his indecent proposal. It would be a betrayal of everything she had been raised for.

"I cannot do anything about it now. I am only a slave", he trailed with a sad smile" But in a few years, I'll be out as a free, wealthy man. And if you still want me then...", he kissed her hard one last time, branding her mouth as his and leaving her breathless, "I'll steal you away and will take responsibility for everything. When the time comes, just let me."

Shuri felt hope blooming in her chest. Dangerous and beautiful, sparking renewed energy throughout her entire body and soul. 

"Why don't you steal me away now ?", she asked, biting her lips, her tone dancing between lighthearted and dead serious. His expression turned grim for a second before he shook his head.

"You're still so young, love. I don't want you to see me as the old man who made society shun you away. Besides, in the meantime, you could always come to love your betrothed. He looked like he cared greatly for you at the inn. I can't take this chance at happiness away from you."

She pursed her lips into a thin line but nodded in spite of her impatience, before the entirety of what he was contemplating hit her. No. This wasn't possible. Too dangerous. He'd taken enough risks in the arena. Going against her marriage would not only pit him against Wakanda but Rome too. The White Wolf deserved his own shot at freedom anyway. He was not responsible for her acting spoiled when she was so lucky. 

"You don't need to, White Wolf. I'll be fine. I’ve known my duties for a long time. This is what I’ve been brought up to do."

"Your Highness-"

"This is too great a risk", she said with a firm, commanding tone. 

"I'm a gladiator. I know more dangerous gambles than that."

"This is a command, White Wolf. _Don't_."

"So this is it then ?", he asked, sad and sour and bitter. "You go back to your fortress and I go back to mine ? I thought you didn’t make compromises about your heart. But here you are, putting on a needless facade again."

Shuri put the hood of her shawl around her head, feeling too worn for anger, her heart heavy and racing nevertheless. " _Goodbye, White Wolf_ ", she whispered, stopping at his level to brush her fingers against his before making her way to the exit. His breath hitched when noticing she brought him back the golden goat brooch.

"We’ll meet again, Princess. I promise", she heard him say in a solemn tone, and the promise made her slow her steps and shake her head in anguish. The future was too uncertain to make this kind of oath. Shuri kept going. Away from him. Away from a light that would consume her whole if she weren't cautious. 

It was only when she got closer and closer to the spot where Zuri and another man awaited that dread replaced sorrow. This wasn’t the merchant she had engaged to bring them to the ludus in his wagon. Guilt settled in her bones, cold and seeping, when she recognized the face of her fiancé in a disguise of his own.

  
  


“Petros...”, her voice fluttered in the night. The gaze he returned her was hollow and unreadable but her shoulders slumped anyway. “ _I can explain_ -”

“Your Highness, It is late. I suggest we all go back to the Palace and avoid a political scandal”, her most trusted servant said in a grave tone. Shuri glanced at him before looking at Petros. His face was drained of color and his lips pressed into such a thin line they looked barely visible. He looked at Zuri then and after nodding, he turned without sparing Shuri a glance or a word.

* * *

It was only when they came back to the Palace that Petros finally talked. He dismissed the guards standing tall at each side’s of Shuri’s room and burst through the twin doors. Shuri didn’t know if she should have been laughing or crying when he finally held one open for her. She stepped into the room as slowly as possible, mind racing to the earlier events and the uncomfortable ride home.

“I thought you were an angel”, Petros gritted after locking the doors, one arm extended to support himself on the plated bronze. His vibrant hazel eyes met with hers, gleaming with anger. “But it turns out you act like a _whore_.”

The word stung but her self-preservation instincts raised and Shuri held her chin upwards defiantly.

  
  


“Careful, Petros. I suggest you to watch your words. I believe we did not raise pigs together.”

“This is all you have to say about this, Shuri ?”, he charged as he drew closer. “No guilt nor apologies ?”

His voice was quivering with disappointment and sorrow now, and it brought tears to her eyes. If the ground could open beneath her feet and swallow her whole, she would welcome it with open arms.

“ _I am sorry_ ”, Shuri whispered, her own voice stuttering, unable to meet his eyes.

“Did you fuck him ? Is this what you planned to do as soon as we got married ? Sneak into the gladiatorial school beneath my nose to fuck your White Wolf ?”

She scoffed and shook her head frantically. “ _No_?!!”

“ _But you wanted to right_? I knew it was him at the inn. I am not nearly as stupid as you think I am”, he sneered, looking her up and down like she was the most soiled woman in the Imperial capital.

“Petros, I cannot control my feelings for-”

“You made your own choice when you planned all of this ?! **When you kissed him** ”, he roared and for the first time, Shuri felt genuine fear in his presence. He noticed and frowned, lowering his eyes to the ground. But Shuri was not one to let herself be cowered into submission before putting up a fight so she too advanced in his direction.

“ _You are right_. I thought about all of this. But I didn’t fuck him, Dear, no matter how much I craved to. And you know what ? I really, really, _really did_. I still do. Remember this: I may be engaged to you Petros, you may be the master of my body and transport for years to come but for now, the White Wolf has my heart and there’s _nothing_ anyone can do about it. _Even I can’t do anything about it_. And if being honest and saying goodbye to a man I love, a man I have to give up because of my loyalty _to you_ makes me _a whore_ , then you better drop me to the nearest brothel right now.”

Her tirade left her breathless but she was sick of concealing her feelings. Her chest rose and fell to the lawless beating of her heart as she stared at him, waiting for his reaction.

“I thought you’d grow out of your little crush. But it looks like you’re ready to put everything on the line for him”, he said after a silence, averting his gaze. “Did you even notice I’ve filled up since we first met ?”

She stopped furrowing her brows and blinked back at him stupidly. “ _What ?_ ”

Petros gave a mirthless laugh and came to sit at a couch, his eyes lowering to his clutched hands. “I thought you liked big men in general, those who look like they can lift you in one arm. So I took some fighting lessons with my bodyguard. Yeah. I’ve taken up Wakandan lessons for you too. For our wedding vows. It wasn’t fair that you were the only one trying to adjust to our culture. You didn’t even notice that either.”

“I am sorry...”

“Stop saying that if you don’t mean it, Shuri”, he groaned.

“ _I do_. I am sorry I wasn’t more honest with you. But there’s nothing more I can do about it now. I am so sorry”

She hugged herself defensively, blinking back tears. Then, she drew near Petros and dared to put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched but met her gaze, his eyes swimming with unshed tears as he bit back a sob.

“You never meant to grow old with me, right ? You were just entertaining me out of pity”, he said softly. So softly it broke her heart even more.

Shuri sniffed and knelt to be at eye-level with him, lithe fingers coming to stroke tears off his cheeks.

“Petros. You have me, I swear. I only need more time-”

He shook his head and tilted it back, his hands coming to grab her wrists. “ _Don’t_. I don’t have you. I never had. Never will. You’ll always think about him, Shuri, and I may be a boy to you but I’m still man enough not to humiliate myself like that.”

He released her hands and leaped to his feet then, shifting away from her. Her pounding heart left her breathless as time stood still, Petros’ muffled steps the only sound grounding her to reality. She failed, she thought as she supported herself with the cushion of the couch. She failed him. Her duty. Her country. She failed all of them.

Shuri followed his way to the exit, letting wetness flood her vision. Petros stopped right at the door and turned to face her one last time.

“I am sorry.”

“Petros”, she begged. “Please, don’t. Do not break the engagement...”

"I don't need to, Your Highness. _You already did_."

He gave her one last, sorrowful look before bowing his neck to her and disappearing behind the plated bronze. That was when she let herself crumble to pieces, groaning in relieved agony, tears streaming down her face, down her nose, sobs wracking her body as she clutched at the couch, burying her face in, and her cries kept her company until the morning light swept through her windows.

* * *

Bucky lost himself to the contemplation of the golden goat pin for the umpteenth time while Paloma squirmed, hoisted under his arm. It would take months for him to have any shot at fighting for his freedom in the arena, he thought as he stroked the textured gold. The next Games would take place for the _Ludi Florales_ and if he remembered the public announcement right, his princess was to be married in spring.

M’Baku had told him to find something worth living for and now, Bucky finally found someone of his own.

His little goat bleated angrily and he let her down, bending to ruffle her soft fur. He scratched Paloma’s chin as he thought about Shuri. She looked so sad and helpless in the stables. He made a mistake to let her go so soon. He should have thought better. Beg her to stay the night. Kiss her some more. Gods, her kisses were worth dying for and Bucky knew he could spend a lifetime stuck to her lips. It was a near miracle he reigned in his desires that night. The princess felt like home, he was sure of that. But he was way older than her and had to be the level headed one. He had no future to offer her when he was bound to the arena. He had to let her go. For now.

But _Someday_. Bucky would hold on to that promise. Someday, he would be free and then, he would build alliances, buy some land, whatever he needed to climb up the social ladder. Make a name for himself other than one tainted by blood. Then, he would come for her. Because the White Wolf couldn't fathom a life without his princess in it anymore. Not when he only had so little of her. Not when he wanted everything and then some.

His palm tightened around the pin as he watched Paloma drink at the trough, thoughts lingering to endless possibilities.

_May we meet again_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Leave or comment or chat with me on tumblr @scotchandwhitelies if you enjoyed it.


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